


Right Place, Wrong Time

by Huntress69



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 19:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress69/pseuds/Huntress69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam accidentally robs a bank</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Place, Wrong Time

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Implied John/Bobby  
> 2) I created John's mother because I felt the boys needed a grandma  
> 2) Once again I disregard the end of IMTOD

**Disclaimer: No time for a disclaimer. I'm off to hunt a Wendigo with Sam and Dean.**

**************

** 1\. WITHDRAWAL **

The young woman had planned it all very carefully. She and her boyfriend were going to pull it off with no problems. Walking into the bank she had a brief conversation with the teller and then stood off to the side, appearing to study a pamphlet on bank regulations....

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Two hundred, Sam." Dean pulled up outside the bank. 

"Okay," Sam said. "Dean, should I get some information on IRA's? I've been doing some research into retirement funds and...."

"Sure, Sam," Dean grinned. "And when you fill out the forms, what are you going to put down as an occupation?"

"House cleaners," Sam grinned back. "That's what Dad and I put on our 1040's. And I'm curious to know what you list as your occupation."

"I don't file taxes."

"You don't fill out a _1040_? Dude, Uncle Sam is **so** going to catch up with you."

"Don't need to, Sammy. I'm dead, remember? Killed in a shoot-out with the cops. That's why I can't go into the bank and transact any business."

"Well, some of us are still alive and kicking," Sam nodded. "And if I live long enough I'd like to be retired and playing shuffleboard in Miami at sixty-five, not chasing ghosts."

"You know, that's not the worst idea you've had," Dean thought aloud. "Not the house-cleaning part, mind you. We could come up with something better. But I gotta tell ya bro', rates are still too low. I'd like to wait until they go up at least a half a point before we invest in a retirement fund. Although at our ages an annuity might be a better idea for the long term." At the surprised look he got, Dean said, "What, you think there are rocks in my head?" At Sam's smile he quickly added, "Never mind, don't answer that. And when Dad used to take me into banks I had nothing to do but sit and read all their booklets. I think I know more about that stuff then the people in the Federal Reserve."

"Roth IRA or regular?" Sam asked with a smirk.

"Well, the Roth might be a bit better because the return rate is...." Dean paused and whacked Sam upside the head. "Just go get the money."

Neither man noticed that the next person into the bank was tall, with dark hair and almost green eyes. He patiently waited on line but his bladder got the better of him and he stepped away, allowing Sam to be the next customer at the teller window.

And being Sam was also tall, had dark hair and almost-green eyes, the teller thought **he** was the woman's accomplice. 

Sam smiled his usual easy-going smile and handed the withdrawal slip to the teller, asking for 'two one's' and calmly waited as she processed the transaction for his two hundred dollars. He turned and looked outside at Dean, who was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. When he turned back to the teller she handed him a **very** large envelope and he assumed she'd given him two hundred one dollar bills instead of two hundreds. He was about to start counting, but saw the bank was crowded, took the envelope and went out to the car. 

"What's that?" Dean asked, eyeing the large envelope.

"She gave me two hundred in singles." Sam stuffed the envelope in his backpack. "I guess she was out of hundred dollar bills."

"You couldn't ask for twenties?" Dean sighed. 

"Dean, the bank's crowded and she was busy so I just took 'em."

"Great," Dean groaned as he drove off. "What are we going to do with two hundred one dollar bills?"

"It all spends the same, Dean, no matter what."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

John Winchester was flipping TV channels in his motel room, relaxing after a brief battle with a fledgling incubus he had taken out in record time. He stopped on the news, figuring he should catch up on what was going on in the world. Taking a sip of his beer he listened to the newscaster. 

_"In other news, the First National Bank of Duluth was robbed today. According to bank officials, twenty thousand dollars was taken by a young man who appeared calm and cool during the robbery. Security cameras captured these images...."_

John took another drink of his beer and promptly spit it all over the bed. The image he was looking at was Sam. 'No,' he thought, 'it only looks like Sam.' His younger son, who both he and Dean jokingly referred to as _the last boy scout_ , would **never** do anything like that.

_"The teller who was robbed stated that the young man was working with a female accomplice who entered the bank a few moments before and gave instructions. The man then went outside and entered this car, which was driven by a male...."_

John's eyes grew even wider as the camera panned outside and showed...."Oh God!"

The newscast continued. _"The car was identified as a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala with Kansas license plates. The driver was tentatively identified as Dean Winchester, but investigators revealed that Winchester, a serial killer, was gunned down last year by SWAT team members as he attempted to murder a young woman. The car is believed to now be owned by Winchester's younger brother Samuel, a former student at Stanford University...."_

"They robbed a bank?" John slowly crushed the beer can in his hand. "When I get my hands on them...." His phone rang, he looked at the caller ID and groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And so it begins." 

It was his mother, who gave him her usual lecture that raising the boys on the road would lead to trouble and did they do this because Dean was thought to be dead and figured they could get away with it? Or perhaps her grandson's were possessed? 

John replied that for the first time he certainly hoped it was a case of possession, because if it wasn't, he was going to maim his sons. 

His phone rang non-stop for the next hour as he fielded calls from his best friend Bobby, than Jacob, than Caleb, Pastor Jim, various other people he knew and lastly, Missouri Mosely. The latter confirmed that yes, it had most definitely been Sam in the bank.

God, John was going to kick both his son's asses when he saw them.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

** 2\. CONFUSION **

"Sam, why did that woman stare at you like that?"

"How should I know?" Sam replied with a shrug. "And all I wanted were two subs but that guy gave me all this food and said 'power to the little people, the banks take enough' before he told me to leave."

"Weird," Dean muttered. 

"How about camping out tonight, Dean," Sam smiled as he pointed to a turnoff with a sign that said _Campgrounds Ahead_. "Beautiful summer night. Why waste money on a motel room?"

"Sounds good," Dean took the exit and followed the road to the end of the camping area. He parked and took the bag from Sam, placing it on a table. "Now, what did that guy give us to eat?" His cell rang and he smiled when he saw the number. "Hi Gran." He promptly pulled the phone away from his ear as the screaming started. 

"Let me talk to her." Sam took the phone. "Hi Grandma...." He too pulled the phone away from his ear. "No, we're fine. And why are you shouting? Hearing aid go on you? I'll buy you a new one." He winced at her bellow. "No Gran, of course I wouldn't steal." He listened for another moment, studying Dean. "Uh, no, not that I know of." Sam frowned. "She wants to know if we're possessed."

"Gimme the phone." Dean snatched it back. "Gran, you cooking with those mushrooms again?" Pause. "No ma'am, of course not. Like Sammy would ever do anything like that. No, I wouldn't either. We can't be a hundred percent honest in our line of work, but we'd never break the law on purpose. Well, almost never." Pause. "A bank? You gotta be kidding me. No, I swear we wouldn't. The news? No, we haven't seen it today. Okay, Gran. We love you too." He hung up. "I think she's using illegal substances," Dean laughed. "She thinks we robbed a bank." His phone rang a moment later and Pastor Jim explained that his congregation was in dire need of financial aid and the way things were going, he'd take money any way he could. Dean just said "Okay" and hung up, looking more confused. 

Sam's cell rang next and Caleb congratulated him, telling him that he did a good job, but he had to watch out for the cameras in the future. And if he needed help, Caleb knew how to get the proper blueprints for a larger job. Jacob called to point out that he didn't get enough (enough of what Jacob didn't say) and then Missouri, who lectured him on the eighth commandment. Being Sam thought that one was _Thou shalt not commit adultery_ (the seventh) he insisted he would never do that and hung up, looking even more confused then Dean. "Missouri said adultery is bad."

"Of course it is," Dean told him. "If you have a serious relationship, you don't cheat. That's why I only have one-night stands." He narrowed his eyes at his brother. "Sam, do you have a girlfriend I don't know about?"

"Yeah, Dean. I've been seeing her every night in between hunts. We have drinks every other Thursday after you fall asleep." Sam chewed on his lip. "Why would she call to tell me that?"

"Maybe it's a southern psychotic thing." 

"You mean psychic, Dean."

"I know what I meant, Sam." Dean's phone rang again and he rolled his eyes. "It's Dad and for the first time I don't want to talk to him."

"Me neither," Sam agreed. "We'll see him tomorrow when we meet up in Wausau." 

Dean's phone stopped ringing and he saw his father had left a message. He played it back, making faces as he listened. "Dad says to watch our backs and he'll deny having seen you if anybody asks." He looked in the large bag. "Shit, Sam! There's got to be enough food here for an army...or you."

"Are you saying I eat too much?" 

"Nah, everybody eats three main courses for dinner."

"You're not going to let me forget that, are you Dean?"

"One sirloin, a half chicken and two pieces of fish. Not to mention, but I will, the mashed potatoes, two salads, a bowl of soup, two pieces of cake and coffee." 

"I was hungry."

"Hungry? Sam, do you know what that man did with the photo he took last week at that buffet?"

Sam shrugged. "I really didn't care."

"He put it on the wall with a sign that reads _Do **NOT** feed this man_." Dean had thought it hysterical.

"Ya know, I don't think that's legal, Dean."

"You ate over a hundred dollars worth of food for five ninety-nine! I wouldn't let you back in!"

"I. Was. Hungry."

"So's an elephant. It's amazing you're not the size of one either."

"Hey Dean," Sam began to shovel food in his mouth, "how come you charged the gas? We got cash, you know."

"Yeah, but I'm sure Visa knows the card is stolen by now so I figured we could get one more use out of it."

"Then why'd we get cash?"

"Speaking of which," Dean started, "maybe I should split it into smaller bundles."

"Doesn't matter, Dean. I told ya, it all spends the same. Have some of this tuna salad. It's really good." 

Dean once again marveled at Sam's voracious appetite. He was heavier then Sam, yet Sam ate twice as much. By the time Dean was done eating, Sam was on his second course. 

To keep busy, Dean spent a few moments setting up the chess board, thinking up some new moves. His geeky little brother was ahead of him, having won fifty-seven of the seventy-nine games they'd played since Sam got the set. But Dean had won the last four and he intended to keep winning until he caught up to Sam. 

Sam was yawning about halfway through the game and told Dean they'd finish in the morning.

Dean spent most of the night with his chin resting in his palm, watching Sam sleep. How he wanted to touch Sam in what was a **very** non-brotherly way. He'd been fighting the urge since Sam was fourteen and he nearly walked in on his younger brother while Sam was jerking off....

**+++++++++++++**

_Hot damn, but his baby brother was as big as he was. Dean secretly watched him, feeling his own growing erection in his pants. Sam stroked quicker, his grip tightening, eyes rolling back as he shot his load into the air, over his chest, moaning, gasping, panting...._

_Dean bit his lip bloody to keep quiet, to prevent his own moan of ecstasy at the beautiful sight of Sam's orgasm. He rubbed his clothed dick, feeling his own orgasm building through the material. And then Sam decided to lick his fingers one by one, sucking each as if it were a cock, ending with a long swipe of his tongue across the palm of his hand._

_That did it for Dean, who fled to his room, slammed the door shut, undid his pants and jerked himself hard and rough, eyes closed, wanting so badly for it to be his tongue tasting Sam's come from his fingers. "Oh God, Sammy...." Dean heard himself moan as he came hard, shooting his load over his hand and the floor. When he opened his eyes he glanced down at his hand and brought it to his mouth. In all his years jerking off, he'd never tasted himself, but tonight...._

_Dean brought the tip of his tongue out and licked the tip of his finger. It was salty, but he'd tasted worse things and opted for another lick. His eyes drifted shut again and it was Sam's hand he was licking, Sam's dick he was sucking, Sam's come pleasuring his taste buds...._

**+++++++++++++**

Dean's memory was interrupted by Sam's soft snore and one day he was going to have to tape it, just to prove to Sam that he **did** snore. He felt his hard-on and sighed, sliding out of his sleeping bag and walking off a bit, but not too far. He'd still be able to hear Sam should Sam begin to have a nightmare. 

Dean had been looking for **any** sign that Sam might have even a **hint** of interest in men, in **him** , since Sam hit puberty. Because if he'd seen it, Dean would have pounced. He himself had an interest in men and picked them up in front of Sam more then once, hoping upon hope that Sam would show a bit of jealousy at some point. 

Sam would just tell him to be careful and use protection and be back at the motel by a certain hour or Sam would come looking for him.

As for Sam, he liked women. It didn't really matter what they looked like anymore. Tall, short, fat, thin, busty or flat-chested, if they were intelligent and he could talk to them and they made him laugh, it worked for Sam. About the only type of women Sam stayed away from were blondes; his luck was no good with them.

Dean would just tell him to be careful and use protection and be back at the motel by a certain hour or Dean would come looking for him.

And so their lives went, day after day. 

Dean felt he'd walked far enough away and leaned against a tree, undoing his pants. "Ahh, yesss," he sighed in relief as his hard cock was freed, the cool night breeze sending little shocks throughout his whole body. Spitting on his hand, he took himself in his fist and slid his hand back and forth, gathering the precome and slicking the thick length. "Oh God...." he murmured, closing his eyes, picturing Sam on his knees, sucking his cock all the way down. "Oh Sammy, oh yeah...do it...just like that, baby brother...."

Dean came so hard he dropped to his knees, out of breath. He had resisted for so long...so many years. Why not anymore? 

He had taken to watching Sam closely, taking in every curve, every muscle, every dip. 

He had watched Sam eat his sub earlier, watched the juices from the steak drip down his chin, wanting to lean in and lick them off. But he controlled the urges...he had to. This was his little brother. Incest was wrong. And if Dean kept telling himself that, then eventually, someday, perhaps when he was on his deathbed, maybe, just **maybe** , he'd believe it.

Dean cleaned up and returned to his brother, kneeling beside Sam, brushing his fingers over a cheek. 

"If you only knew how much I love you...how I so want to touch you...to pleasure you...." Dean whispered. "Dean, you have definitely been watching too many Lifetime movies." He glanced at Sam's still innocent face. "God, you look like a fucking angel." Dean leaned down and brushed his lips over Sam's, catching himself before he actually kissed his brother. He pulled back as Sam grew restless and turned over, away from Dean's gaze. Dean gave him one last look of want before he returned to his own bag and let sleep take him over. 

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Morning came, and Dean turned, glancing over at Sam. He jumped up, his senses alert, as Sam was nowhere to be seen. Hearing a soft moan, he silently moved to the sound and his eyes widened at the sight before him. 

There was Sam, on his knees, eyes closed, lips parted in rapture. Dean's eyes moved down his brother's glorious body. Sam had one hand wrapped around his cock, slowly moving it up and down the length, running his thumb over the slit on each upward motion. 

Dean felt himself growing hard at the vision before him. The sight of Sam pleasuring himself was igniting a fire within Dean, a blazing heat he hadn't felt in years. His breaths began to come a little quicker and his cock felt as if it would bust out of his pants on its own. He wandered back to camp, lest he do something he was sure he would regret. 

Sam heard a noise and stilled his hand, looking around. He didn't see anything and returned his attentions to his dick. His eyes closed again and his latest fantasy resumed itself...being on his knees before Dean, hands bound behind his back, Dean's fingers wound in his hair, forcing his cock deeper down Sam's throat. Sam would try to pull his head away, but Dean would pull him back and fuck his mouth raw. And then Dean would scream Sam's name, filling Sam's very being with his come, Sam swallowing every drop and begging for more....

Sam came hard, softly moaning Dean's name, panting for breath as the final spasms of his orgasm swept through his body. He knelt there, feeling the sting of tears behind his eyes. The fantasies he'd been having since puberty would never come to fruition. 

Even if they hadn't been brothers, Sam wasn't Dean's type. The men Dean picked up tended to be totally witless, with more brawn then brain. 'And of course,' Sam thought, 'there is the little matter of incest...and the fact that you've never been with a man.'

Not that it bothered Sam, mind you, the incest part. He really didn't give a flying fuck what people thought anymore. His father would kill them, but that was a given at almost **any** time the three Winchester men were together more then ten minutes. Gran would probably be thrilled; she'd been after Sam to find someone nice since his Jess died, someone like his brother.

"She couldn't know, could she?" Sam wondered aloud. His grandmother was almost as weird as Missouri sometimes, seemingly reading his mind. "And what's the difference anyway?" he muttered as he walked back. "I've never done it and I'm sure he does **not** want to break in a virgin at his age." By the time he got back, Dean had a fire going and was scrambling eggs.

Sam turned on the radio. 

_"In other news, the First National...."_

Dean switched it to a rock station.

Sam made a face and turned it back. 

_"The car was positively identified as a black...."_

Dean turned the station again. 

"Dean, stop!" Sam laughed, changing the station again, the newscast continuing. 

_"....with Kansas license plates. Officials are offering a reward for information leading to the capture of Mister Win...."_

The station faded out. 

"Get that back, Sam!" Dean shouted. "Somebody's offering a reward for something."

"Oh, so now you want the news, huh?" Sam laughed again, but managed to find the station. 

_"....and the unknown female accomplice. They are believed to be armed and dangerous and were last seen heading south on Interstate 535, towards Wisconsin."_

"That's cool, Sammy," Dean smiled. "Now all we have to is keep an eye out for a car with Kansas license plates."

"I spy one right over there," Sam giggled, pointing to the Impala.

"Very funny, Sam. When we get back on the road, you just keep your eyes peeled for that car."

"Yes sir!" Sam snorted as he rolled up his sleeping bag. 

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Claudette and Michael, the two would-be robbers, were not happy. They'd gotten a good look at the security tapes on the TV. They hit I-535 and followed the highway, hoping that they could catch up with the Impala. They were armed, they were angry, they wanted the money they considered their's and they were going to find Sam Winchester if it was the last thing they did.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

** 3\. A TOUCH OF CHAOS **

"Sam, doesn't the Yellow-Eyed Demon have a direct line to our psyche's when we're all together?"

"Dad says it's safe. I think he had Missouri do a reading like last time."

"Great, our safety in the hands of Tarot cards."

"She's good at it, Dean," Sam shrugged. His cell rang and he smiled when he saw the number. Taking the call, he walked off a bit.

Dean noticed his smile slowly fading and as Sam walked back, he hung up. "It was Sarah," Sam told him, with a frown. "Sarah Blake. Remember her?"

'Oh yeah,' Dean thought, 'that innocent looking little....' Aloud, "Yeah, Sam, I watched you lock lips with her. **Remember**?"

"Relax, dude," Sam rolled his eyes. "You sound like a jealous lover." Dean spewed his water all over Sam's shirt and began to choke. "Whoa, Dean, you okay?"

"Yeah," Dean gasped out, "food went down wrong." He caught his breath. "So, what did Sarah have to say?"

"That she thought I was a nice boy, despite what I did for a living, but she should have known better." Sam looked hurt. "Her father said he's going to shoot me if I go near his little girl again."

'Good,' Dean thought, 'you didn't need her anyway.' But outwardly he appeared sympathetic and patted Sam's arm. "I'm sorry, bro'. I know you liked her." Dean's cell rang next and he saw an unknown number but picked it up. "Yeah." His eyes widened. "Where are the two of you?"

Sam mouthed 'Who's on the phone?' but Dean waved him off.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll see you again." Dean sneered, then turned bright red, screamed, "HE DOES NOT!" and nearly threw his phone.

"Who was that, Dean?" 

"Kate," Dean replied calmly.

"Kate who?" Sam thought for a moment. "KATE?! Lady Dracula? What did **she** want and how did she get your number?!"

"She and her...female friend...they want us to hook up with them. She says it could be profitable for all of us if we call a truce." 

"And that pissed you off?" Sam followed Dean as he picked up the sleeping bags and put them in the trunk.

"No, Sam. She also said you have a...a fuckable ass."

Sam flushed pink and ducked his head. "I'm sure she meant it as a compliment."

Dean slammed the trunk closed. "You'd get off on doing her, wouldn't you? Fucking vamp sucking you dry...."

"It depends what she's sucking on," Sam laughed, then paused. "Oh my God, I can't believe I said that. You're an evil influence on me." 

"Pervert, that's what you are."

"Oh, **I'm** a pervert?" Sam's eyes narrowed. "I don't get off on being tied up by two women and letting them...." Sam covered his mouth quickly, but it was too late. 

"You were supposed to be at the movies," Dean growled and stalked forward; Sam stepped back, against the trunk. "It was my night to have the motel room."

"I didn't even have a chance to leave when you came back with those two bleached blondes! I was still in the bathroom."

"Then you did get off on watching, didn't you?" Dean challenged. 

"How did the nice vampire lady get your private number?" Sam asked accusingly, poking Dean in the chest. "Do you give it out to everyone?" A poke in the shoulder. "What about that witch in Toledo?" Another poke. "Is **she** going to call next?" 

Dean grabbed Sam's wrist before Sam could poke him again. "One more and I break it." Sam's other hand came up and Dean grabbed that one also. He shoved Sam against the trunk, pushing Sam's arms above his head, leaning over him. "I oughtta beat your ass."

"Only if you promise to kiss it after," Sam laughed a bit, careful not to take the teasing too far. 

Dean didn't and leaned further in, his face an inch from Sam's. "Shut up, Sam."

Sam felt Dean's hard-on, but it appeared Dean himself didn't. So of course Sam had to take advantage. He arched his body, his own cock brushing Dean's, licking his lips as he stared into Dean's eyes. 

"What are you doin', Sammy?" Dean asked, but his voice had gone up a little and he was starting to sweat. And when Sam dug the heels of his bare feet into Dean's ass and pulled him forward, Dean sighed. "Sam, I...oh shit...I am feeling some **very** unbrotherly thoughts about you right now."

"Had a psych prof once," Sam wrapped his legs around Dean's waist and pulled their erections tight, "who said when you have a feeling..." Sam swiveled his hips, "...go with it...." He lay his head back, baring his neck to Dean. "I love you, Dean."

"Sammy...oh God, sweet Sam...." Dean buried his nose in Sam's neck, inhaling the scent of his brother, reveling in it. "Nobody will ever touch you again but me." Dean lay a trail of kisses along Sam's neck, up to his ear. "Nobody will taste this, feel it, experience it, but me." He lifted Sam's shirt. "This is mine." He bent his head and sucked on a nipple, feeling Sam's fingers in his hair. "All mine." The other nipple was nipped and laved and Dean shifted back to the first, making them red and raw. 

Once he realized this was not a fantasy, Sam began to moan Dean's name and 'Yes' and 'More' and 'Pleasepleaseplease', grinding his hips forward, hands resting on Dean's shoulders, pushing Dean's head down his body. 

Dean went willingly, leaving bite marks all the way down, his hands undoing Sam's pants with ease, sliding them down those long and lean legs, kissing a path up, his hands **finally** touching the bare flesh he had long ago denied himself. Laying his head on Sam's thigh, Dean looked up into his eyes, seeing the dark green almost eclipsed by black. Dean knew he would get one chance with Sam and if he blew it, there would never be a second opportunity. 

This was not some one time fuck in a motel room, not a quickie in a club. 

This was his life... **their** lives. 

If they screwed this up, it would wreck them for eternity.

Dean took one last look into those eyes and discovered he was a true-to-life sap. He saw himself through Sam's eyes. He saw love and trust and respect and....

"Can I suck your cock, Sammy? Take it in my mouth and taste you?" Dean blew cool breath across the tip, watching the moisture gather. 

"FUCK YES!" Sam lifted his legs, hooking them over Dean's shoulders. 

"Thank you." Dean's hands were groping Sam's ass, Dean's mouth covering his cock, head bobbing up and down, swaying from side to side. Dean moaned and hummed. He used his tongue and teeth and lips and years of experience to pleasure Sam, to make Sam scream, make Sam beg, make Sam....

"I LOVE YOU, DEAN!"

And Sam came...and Dean fed....

"Dean," Sam murmured, "Oh my God, I think I'm dead." His legs slid from Dean's shoulders and he **knew** he had the stupidest grin plastered across his face. 

"I came in my pants," Dean looked vacuous, braindead, wearing the same stupid grin. "Oh, Sammy, I love you so much."

"Kiss me, Dean?" Sam asked.

"I haven't done that, have I Sam." Dean smiled and leaned in. "So beautiful...all mine...." He licked at Sam's lips, but paused. "Uh, Sammy, I just blew you. You might not like the taste of...."

"Kiss me."

Dean slid his tongue inside, capturing Sam's, entwining the two. "Oh baby, yeah...." Dean moaned and dove in for another kiss...and his cell rang. 

"Who is it this time, Dean? Bigfoot? Lizzie Borden? Francine, the succubus from Buffalo?"

"Dad again."

"If he's not signaling 911, don't answer. We'll be in Wausau in about an hour and a half." They cleaned up, dumped their garbage and Sam slid his hands over Dean's shoulders, giving him a kiss.

"Love the way you kiss, Sammy. And what do you want?"

"Can I drive?"

"No," Dean told him. "You get stopped for speeding again, they'll run your license and find out it's a fake."

"It's a fake?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "Dean, you said you renewed it for me."

"Sam, you had seven speeding tickets in a year," Dean smirked, "they weren't going to renew you."

"Renew **me**? Dean, I'm not the one who's dead."

"Good point." Dean stole a quick kiss. "But you're still not driving."

Sam pouted but got in. 

A short while into the ride, they hit Eau Claire...and Dean saw the big sign that said KRISPY KREME. 

"Always time for Krispy Kreme, Sammy."

"Down boy," Sam smiled, "you're salivating."

One hour later the two had finally agreed on a dozen doughnuts and were headed to the car when they were approached by two girls, maybe in their late teens. 

"We saw your photo in Duluth," girl number one giggled and smiled shyly at Sam, "and you are like...intense, very intense, to try something like that."

"See, Dean," Sam answered with a smug smile, "somebody is impressed over my...talent."

"Oh we are," girl number two grinned. "You're like...my hero." She leaned in and whispered something to Sam.

Sam turned the brightest shade of red Dean had ever seen. He opened his mouth twice, thought for a moment and then spoke. "The two of you?" It came out a squeak. "At the same time?"

"No thank you, ladies," Dean smiled and took Sam by the arm. "Statutory rape is not on my list of priorities right now."

"We're over eighteen, " both girls sing-songed.

"I'll bet." Dean semi-bowed, smirked and literally pulled Sam to the car. 

"And you said eating too much was a bad thing," Sam said as he got in.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "I did." He was a bit confused again; something wasn't right. He half-expected Rod Serling to pop out of nowhere and tell them they were in the Twilight Zone. His phone rang and he picked it up this time. "Hey, Dad." Pause. "Yeah, we'll be there in about a half hour. Okay. Funny you should ask that, because Gran did too. See you then." Dean hung up and turned to Sam. "Dad wants to know if we watched the news also. Sam, you have any idea what they're talking about?"

"Nope. But I'm sure Dad will be more then happy to enlighten us as soon as we see him."

"That's what I'm afraid of, Sam."

"Me too, Dean," Sam admitted. "Me too."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

** 4\. GUESS WHAT WE DID, DAD? **

They had just passed the sign that welcomed them to Wausau when Dean's cell rang again. "I gotta shut the damn thing off."

"Gimme." Sam answered the phone and made the most godawful face. 

"Dad again?"

Sam shook his head and began to grind his teeth. "No, he can't come to the phone right now." Pause. "No, he won't be calling you back unless it's a..." Sam thought for a moment "...supernatural emergency." Long pause. "He is **not** interested because he's with me now." 

Dean heard the shouting at the other end of the phone and recognized the voice. "Give me the phone, Sam."

"No, I won't."

"Sam...."

"Fine, Dean!" Sam tossed the phone to him. "Talk to her." He turned his head and stared out the window, lips pursed in a thin line - Sam was upset at this particular call.

Dean just smirked as he picked up the phone. "Hey." Pause. "Yeah, it is. Me and Sam." He smiled at Sam as Sam turned to him. "So, uh, like he said, if you have another...problem, call me." Long pause. "I really don't care what you think. And go ahead and call the cops, the moral majority, the Pope, hell, call the New York Times as far as I'm concerned. I really don't give a damn." Dean gritted his teeth as the shouting started again. "Well fuck you too, Cassie!" He closed the phone. "That was fun."

Sam undid his seatbelt and slid closer to Dean. 

"What, Sammy?"

Sam slid his hand between Dean's legs and undid the button, moving Dean's zipper down.

Dean removed his hand. "Don't do that. Put your seatbelt back on." He attempted to rezip himself but Sam's hand moved inside his pants. Dean shoved him away. "No."

"Why not?" Sam asked. "You did me."

"I have some experience, bro'." Dean managed to get his zipper up. "You don't."

"I have experience," Sam insisted.

"Really?" Dean smirked. "With who?"

"I'm not a virgin with men," Sam lied.

Dean turned to his brother, whispered, "Oh," and frowned. "I thought...."

"I know what you thought, Dean and you were wrong, okay. You're not...you're not the first man I've been with."

"I assumed...."

"I've been around the block, Dean. A few times as a matter of fact."

"I see." Dean said softly, appearing to believe his brother...which he didn't for a minute. 'Well, Sammy,' he thought, hiding the smug grin that threatened to split his face, 'I'm going to call you on this later. Then you can show me how much experience you _really_ have.' He saw the turnoff, spotted the motel and pulled up beside John's truck. "Okay, Sam, no telling Dad about us."

"Dad doesn't know you like men?"

"There's a big difference between your father accepting the fact that you're into men and accepting the fact that you're committing incest."

Sam nodded in agreement. " _Are_ we going to tell him?"

"First we'll hint around that **you** like men and see how he reacts. We'll play the rest by ear."

"Understood!" Sam saluted. "Whatever you say, sir!"

"Can it, Sammy. You don't know what I went through when he found me with a man for the first time. He didn't talk to me for almost a month."

"What made him change his mind?"

"I told Gran and she told him off." Dean couldn't help laughing. "She said she didn't raise a narrow-minded asshole and at least I wasn't into beastiality, kiddie-porn or necrophilia."

"Yep, that sounds like Grandma," Sam grinned. "She once told me that she wondered how **her** son could be so stiff, considering he grew up on a free-love commune." 

"It nearly killed her when he went into the marines. She nearly disowned him, than excused it as a phase which he'd outgrow." Dean actually giggled. "And he did...into middle-class suburbia."

"Hello boys."

Both turned and smiled at their father.

"Hello, sir," Dean said.

"Hi, Dad," Sam added. As he'd gotten older, he stopped calling his father 'sir', most of the time at least; Dean did enough of that for the two of them.

"Well, are you coming inside?"

"We brought doughnuts," Sam told him. "Krispy Kremes."

"It was my idea, Sam," Dean said.

"It was your idea to stop, Dean. It was **my** idea to get dad two crullers."

"Inside."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, afraid of what their father was going to tell them, and walked inside his room. 

"Did somebody die, Dad?" Sam asked, trying to read his father's face. "Grandma?"

"Grandma's dead?!" Dean sat down. "Oh God, we just talked to her."

"Boys...."

"I don't want grandma to be dead." Sam began to sniffle. 

"I'll...maybe I can trade my soul for hers." Dean chewed on his lower lip. "I'm sure we can find a...a spell somewhere."

John sighed and rolled his eyes. "Your grandmother's not dead."

"Then why did you say she was?" Sam asked, wiping his face, looking all of ten.

"I didn't, Sam!" John took a deep breath and glared at Dean. "And if she knew you even **thought** about trading your life for hers, she'd kill you herself."

"Then why do you look like somebody died?"

John pointed to the TV; the nightly newscast was on.

"Did grandma get arrested?" Dean asked. 

"Again?" Sam took out his cell. "We gotta arrange bail...again."

"Yeah!" Dean agreed. "Unless she was dealing something stronger then weed. In that case, she might not get bail and we'll have to bust her out." He had a look of determination on his face. "Call Bobby and tell him to meet us at dawn."

Sam hit the speed dial, but John grabbed his phone. "Your Grandmother hasn't been arrested again."

"Then why did you say she was?" Dean asked.

"I didn't say that either." John was exasperated. "Just listen." He upped the volume.

_"There is still no further information on the bank robbery that occurred yesterday afternoon at the First National Bank of Duluth."_

"Sammy," John smiled like a cobra, "why did you open an account there?"

Sam tried to hide behind Dean; not an easy thing since he'd outgrown his brother. That smile of John's always scared the shit out of him. "We were there about six months ago and they were giving away a free Ipod with every new savings account. And how did you know that?"

John nodded back to the TV.

_"The police have issued a statewide hunt for this car, a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, with Kansas license plate number KAZ 2Y5. As was stated earlier, the driver of the car was originally believed to be the owner, Dean Winchester, but officials have confirmed that Winchester, a serial rapist/killer, was indeed gunned down by the police last year."_

Dean was in the midst of eating a doughnut; it dropped to the floor unnoticed. 

_"This video shows first the young woman who enters the bank at twelve thirty-three. She approaches the teller window, speaks with the woman and stands to the side, apparently waiting for someone. Approximately twenty minutes later, a male enters the bank and speaks to her for a moment."_

"Sam, that's you." Dean stared at the image on the TV. 

"I asked her if she could move so I could get a pen," Sam insisted. "That was it, I swear."

"Sammy," Dean 'tsked', "didn't we have a chat about talking to strangers?"

Sam narrowed his eyes. "I was seven years old and lost in the mall, Dean. I asked for help like they taught us in school. How was I to know that policewoman was the she-demon Dad was tracking?"

"There's more boys," John said. "Just listen."

_"He was positively identified as Samuel Winchester, younger brother of Dean. Winchester then approached the teller window, took the cash and calmly left the bank. The accomplice followed five minutes later and disappeared down the street. Approximately twenty minutes after that Winchester's accomplice shot a young man and stole his car, taking off toward the I-535...."_

"Jesus Christ," John's breath hitched and he turned the TV off. "Get your car out of sight, Dean."

Dean nodded, he and Sam getting to their feet and heading outside. Dean moved the car to the rear of the motel, removed a few essentials and they covered it with the tarp. The moment they got back inside, Dean took out the envelope and emptied it onto the bed. "Holy shit, Sam! This is **not** two hundred in singles!"

"They're hundreds," John smirked, picking up a few strapped bundles. 

Sam quickly counted the wrapped bills. "Dean, there's twenty-two thousand dollars here."

"Sam, **all** our account balances **combined** , ours and Dad's, total three grand, I'm sure of it." Dean was staring at the money. "I may not be as booksmart as you, but my math skills have never needed any help." 

"No wonder everybody was calling," Sam said, staring at the money with widened eyes. 

"Who called?" John asked. "Other then your Grandmother, who really gave it to me. I'm on her shitlist again."

"Uh, Jim said the church needed money," Dean said, "and Caleb told Sam he didn't get enough. Obviously we now know what he thought Sam didn't get enough of."

"Jake called also," Sam added, "and now I know _why_ he told me he could get me blueprints for a larger job."

"Sarah doesn't want to see Sam anymore," Dean laughed, "and Cassie...whoa, Dad, that sweet young thing has quite a foul mouth on her."

"Don't forget about Kate," Sam said with a lilt in his voice. "She called Dean."

"KATE!" John glared at Dean. "What do you do, Dean? Give your phone number to **every** woman you meet?"

"I'm just trying to figure out why it's on the national news," Sam wondered aloud. "It's a local Minnesota bank."

"Sam," John sighed, "your brother is a known serial killer. Of course it would be on the NATIONAL FUCKING NEWS! You robbed a goddamned bank, for Christ's sake!"

"I didn't...I would never...." Sam fled the room and Dean watched him running down the road. 

"Shit," John muttered, "I shouldn't have...sometimes I forget how much Sam takes after your mother." He smiled at his memories. "She was so sensitive, took a lot to heart."

"He'll be okay, Dad," Dean reassured his father. "He runs when he's stressed. I figure an hour or so and he'll be back, calmed down."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Just as Dean had said, Sam returned about an hour later, calmed, and went to his father's room. "I didn't mean to do it, Dad. If I did, I would have gotten away with more, I swear."

"I know, Sam and I'm sorry for screaming. Just do me one favor, okay?" Sam nodded. "If you ever do decide to rob a bank, do what Jake said and get the blueprints first. We'll make sure we get more then twenty grand."

"I will. Did Dean get a room?"

"Room sixteen, a few doors down." John handed Sam a key. "Sam, I owe you an apology. I should have known better then to think you would rob a bank. Dean, yes. You, no."

"It's okay, Dad. Studies show that bank robbers...."

John put his palm up. "No psych-babble, Sam. My head will burst open."

"I love you too, Dad." Sam grinned, nodded and went to his room. He opened the door, hearing Dean in the shower and got to work salting the windows. 

Dean came out and motioned Sam in, muttering, "You smell."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Sam was quick and came out to find Dean sitting on the bed, still clad only in a towel around his waist. 

"Dean?" 

"Come here, baby." Dean pulled Sam over, snatched the towel away and shoved him onto the bed. His own towel disappeared, his strong legs straddling Sam's. "I don't wanna wait. I need you now."

Sam's eyes grew wide. 

Dean slid back a bit. "I don't have lube, lover, but spit should do. I'm sure you've had a cock up your ass with no KY before."

"A what up my...Dean, there's something I need to tell you."

"Tell me later, Sammy, after I fuck you six ways to Sunday and spank your bottom red and raw."

Sam's eyes grew even wider.

Dean noticed, but quickly gathered his composure. 'I _should_ spank him for lying to me,' he thought, 'but this is going to me a lot more fun.' Aloud, "I have handcuffs, a blindfold and a ten inch dildo with your name on it."

"A ten inch...."

"With studs," Dean added with a leer and slid off his brother, appearing to look through his duffel. "Now where did I put it?" He heard the sharp intake of breath and turned; Sam was putting on his boxers, his whole body shaking as he backed away, sitting on the other bed. 

"I don't...I can't...I...." Sam's breathing grew rapid. "I lied."

"About what, Sam?" Dean asked knowingly.

"I never did this before." Sam was trying to calm himself. "I figured if you thought I knew what I was doing...I thought maybe you wouldn't want a virgin." He bit his lower lip. "And I certainly don't want to play with a ten inch studded dildo. Or handcuffs."

"Sammy," Dean murmured, feeling a slight twinge of guilt. He sat next to Sam, his right hand rubbing Sam's back. His left hand entwined with Sam's right, holding it gently. "I still love you."

"I'm sorry for lying."

"Sam, I know you've never done this before."

"Y-you knew?"

"Of course I knew. You're a lousy liar, little brother." Dean framed Sam's face in his hands. "I **should** spank you for lying, but I'll give forgiveness this time." He leaned in for a kiss, keeping it soft and chaste. "Can I safely assume you're not ready to....?"

"I don't think so, Dean. Unless you want to. Do you?"

"I can wait, Sam." Dean stole another kiss. "Now we get dressed and join Dad for dinner. There's a buffet down the street and Dad's buying. I can't wait for him to watch you eat."

"You think it's safe, Dean?" Sam asked as he got dressed. "What if somebody saw the news?"

Dean finished getting dressed and planted a large baseball cap on Sam's head. "You have to eat, bro' and to be honest, I love it when we go to a buffet."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

John and Dean finished their food, and watched in fascination as Sam kept eating. The youngest Winchester put away a turkey breast (with stuffing and cranberry sauce), two racks of ribs, a half loaf of bread, three portions of mashed potatoes (with gravy), four bowls of salad and two pieces of chocolate cake. He got up for more when Dean grabbed his arm.

"I think that's enough Sammy." 

"Aww Dean, I'm still hungry," Sam pouted. 

"How could you still be hungry?" John asked. "Dean, aren't you feeding him on a regular basis?"

"Of course I am, Dad," Dean replied, a bit insulted. "Why do you think I'm constantly broke?" As they walked back to the motel, he nudged Sam and nodded to a man; Sam got the message.

"Oh, now that is a good looking...." He flushed a little pink when he saw John staring at him. "I mean...."

"You like men also, Sam?" John asked, voice low.

"I...yeah," Sam answered with his own nod. 

"Okay," John smiled at him. "I'll have to deal with it. Just promise me you won't get involved with any rough stuff and you'll only date nice boys...or sort of nice boys."

Sam looked at Dean, one eyebrow raised. "Uh-uh, Sam, don't even think it about me. I don't do S&M, B&D or leather. And he gave me the same speech when I was nineteen."

"B&D?" Sam asked them.

"College, and he doesn't know what that is." John couldn't help the snicker. 

"Bondage and discipline, Sam," Dean said. "You know, I tie you up and spank you, you beg like a dog, that sort of thing."

"I wouldn't do stuff like that," Sam told John. 

"I know you wouldn't Sam," John reassured him. "You've always been a good kid." Dean opened his mouth and John smiled at him. "You are too, Dean, much as it pains me to admit it. I did manage to do something right with the two of you."

"Thanks, Dad," Dean smiled back. "See you in the morning?"

"Yes you will. And we'll figure out something, I promise."

"G'night, Dad." Both young men said.

"Good night, boys."

Dean and Sam went to their room.

"Step one is finished," Dean said. "Dad doesn't hate the idea that you like men."

"What's step two?"

"Hinting around that you and I are closer then brother's should be. Like maybe a hug for no reason, me whispering in your ear, something subtle. Then we check out his reaction. If Dad looks murderous, we stop or make an excuse."

"And if Dad just smiles?"

"Then Sam...then I am totally lost. I guess I just kiss you, with tongue."

Sam agreed, the two stripping down to their underwear. He climbed into one bed and looked hopefully at Dean. "Are we sleeping together tonight?"

"I'd like that." Noticing Sam's trepidation, he added, "I'll just hold you, I promise."

It didn't take long for Sam to fall asleep. Between the long day and the amount of food he'd ingested he dropped off within five minutes.

Dean was biting his lower lip; Sam was quite a temptation laying there in his boxers. He kept reaching out to touch, then quickly pulled his hand back.

Sam cracked an eye open. "I hear you thinking." The other eye opened. "It's okay to touch me, Dean."

Dean slid out of his briefs, while Sam took down his boxers. He pulled Sam atop him and brought one hand to the back of Sam's head, pulling him into a soft kiss, arching his body up. "God you feel good." His hands carded in Sam's hair, holding their lips together. 

Sam returned the kiss in full, burying his lips in Dean's neck, licking to his ear. "I want you." 

"I know," Dean murmured. "But not now." 

"Why not?" 

A lick to Sam's lips, a nibble along Sam's ear. His cock against Sam's, feeling it swell. "I have no lube." A shrug from Sam. "I can't. I'll hurt you." 

"But...." 

"Not without lube, Sam." Dean caressed Sam's ass with his fingertips, body pushing up, his dick finding Sam's, rubbing them against each other, hearing a soft moan. "You like this?" 

"Uh-huh." 

Dean reached between them, thumb grazing the tip of Sam's cock. "You're leaking." He sucked his thumb into his mouth, along with two fingers, wetting them. Resting one hand on Sam's ass, the other slid between the cheeks, teasing, waiting for Sam to make the next move. He didn't wait long. 

Sam pressed his own body down harder, stretching his arms over Dean's shoulders, rotating his hips, feeling the friction. He lifted his ass against Dean's fingers, clearly wanting more. 

Dean was more then happy to oblige, slowly slipping one finger inside, in and out, listening to the moans, watching Sam's face, eyes closed, face steeped in bliss. Then Sam arched his body, whispering "More," and Dean, once again, was more then happy to take care of things. Meeting Sam's every move with one of his own, Dean slid a second finger inside, pushing deeper, thrusting up harder. Lips moving to Sam's neck, he sucked on the sensitive spot where neck met shoulder, leaving a nice bruise. While one hand finger fucked Sam, the other gripped his ass cheek, sliding their dicks back and forth against each other, the moisture from both slicking them. A moan from his own lips, his free hand moving up, fingers winding in Sam's hair. He took Sam's mouth none to gently, tongue deep, sucking the breath from Sam's lungs. "You gonna come for me now? Come all over me?" Another moan. "Do it with me. It'll feel so good." 

"I...oh...this is...oh God....DEAN!" A bite to his shoulder and Sam screamed as his orgasm was torn from him, his come bathing the two of them. 

Dean followed a moment later, continuing to grind their bodies together, until both men were soft, drained, and covered with each others come. Feeling Sam go limp in his arms, Dean smiled, holding him close. "Did you like that?" Sam just nodded. "Speechless, huh?" Another nod. Dean rolled him onto his back, sitting up. Sam sat up as well, gripping Dean's arm. "Relax, Sam. I just want to clean us up." Dean went to the bathroom, washed up, wet another cloth and went back in to the bedroom. "Okay, Sammy?"

"Better then okay. Damn Dean, that was amazing."

"I'm an amazing kind of guy."

"Nothing wrong with your ego."

"You're amazing also, Sam. And beautiful. And sexy. And everything I ever wanted." He didn't want to admit he'd wanted Sam for years. He would soon, but not right now. "I'm just sorry it took me so long to see it."

"You always were a slow learner," Sam cracked, then grew serious. "I want to tell Dad."

"Now, Sam?"

"In the morning, Dean. **After** he's had a few cups of coffee."

"I don't think a few cups of coffee is going to make things easier."

"I don't want him drunk."

"Why not, Sam?" Dean laughed a little. "This way, if he wants to maim us both, we'll be able to outrun him."

"It's not funny to me, Dean."

"I know." Dean kissed him again. "We'll work it out, Sam. Trust me?"

"If I must."

"Oh yes, you must. Big brother is always right." He placed a finger over Sam's mouth. "It was a rhetorical statement."

Sam snuggled into Dean's arms. "Love you."

"Yeah, I know. I'm a lovable kind of guy."

"Dean...."

"Okay, Sam, if I must." Another quick kiss. "I love you too."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

They woke up tangled in each other's arms, sweaty and sticky; the air conditioning had died during the night. Dragging themselves out of bed, they headed for a shower together. 

Washing up was quick, but as they stood under the spray, Sam began to stroke Dean's dick. "You like this?"

"Oh yeah, Sam. It's good, really good." Dean leaned against the tiles, Sam dropping to his knees. 

Sam played with the hard shaft, licking the length, sucking the tip, stealing glances up at Dean, who had his eyes closed and was thoroughly enjoying the feeling. He managed to take Dean halfway before choking, and Dean eased him back. 

"I've been told I can be...difficult...to blow," he said, petting Sam's hair. 

"How big, Dean?" Sam asked, tilting his head up.

"I have absolutely no idea. I never measured." Dean took Sam by the shoulders and dragged him upright. "I'll do you again."

"You don't have to."

"Oh, Sammy, I used to like giving head."

"Used to?"

"I can honestly say I love to do it now...." Dean dropped down and swallowed Sam, happily sucking and licking, making a meal of his brother's dick.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

John headed to the boy's room with some breakfast, letting himself in with his trusty lockpick. He glanced around, happy to see the salt lines and the runes on the door and around the windows. He'd taught his son's well. He heard the shower and assumed one of his son's was in there, but had no idea where the other one was. And then he heard it....

"Oh yeah...oh just like that...oh God, yes, yes...YESSSS!" 

Then silence and the shower going off.

"Oh shit," John muttered. "They're...I don't believe this."

Dean's acute hearing heard his father and he froze, putting his palm up. Bending down he peeked under the door and saw his father's shoes. Turning back to Sam, he mouthed, 'Dad'.

"I'm not hiding this, Dean. I refuse."

"Sammy...."

"No, Dean. This is too important. If he can't accept us like this...."

"I agree with you, Sam."

Sam opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again. "You do?"

"Yeah, baby, I do. Let's get it over with." 

They walked out, both prepared for a fight, an argument...a battle royale. But what they got was John sitting on the bed, munching on a breakfast burrito. 

"Coffee and Egg McMuffin's." John nodded to the bags. "I got you a Coke, Sam, because I know you hate coffee."

"I've been with Dean a while now," Sam smiled as he gathered his clothing. "I've learned to enjoy it."

Dean was dressed and he faced John. "Nothing you can say is going to make us stop...."

"Did I say anything negative?" John took a deep breath. "I didn't disagree, did I?"

"You approve?" Dean was shocked.

"I didn't say that," John replied, looking from one to the other. "But I don't exactly disapprove either. I should be happy that you're happy, or at least you appear to be."

"We are, Dad," Sam told him. "And this is new, since yesterday morning." He really didn't need to tell John he'd felt this way for years; he hadn't even told Dean. "I've, uh, actually been happy since we started traveling together again."

Dean stared at him, eyes wide. "Really, Sam? I...I don't know what to say. After what happened to Jess...."

"Dean, I did love her, and I thought I wanted...I don't want to say normal, because I'm really not sure what that is anymore. Maybe normal is hunting ghosts and chasing demons."

"I think so," John and Dean said together.

"I'm a Winchester." Sam laughed out loud. "Yeah, this is definitely normal." He bit into his Egg McMuffin. "And I always hated these things. They taste like cardboard."

Breakfast was quickly finished and the three agreed to head to Jacob's cabin. It was tucked away in a remote part of the mountains and they would be safe until they figured out what to do, how to clear Sam's name. 

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Claudette and Michael were driving by and spotted Sam in front of the motel. They were pissed. It should have been a simple job, they'd done it before. Get into a bank, take small amounts and disappear. But in between the robberies they supplemented their income with a few hits; murder was more profitable, although it took further planning. As such they had no problem with wounding both men and forcing them to turn over the money. Then they would kill them. 

He aimed at Sam and she aimed at Dean and both squeezed the triggers.....

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Sam, your shoelace is untied," Dean pointed.

"Yes mom," Sam smirked and knelt down to tie it. "Ooh look, a caterpillar."

Dean knelt beside him. "They sure are pretty. Remember when we used to collect them, Sam? When we lived in Texas?"

A car pulled up with Motley Crue blaring at the same time the bullets whizzed over their heads, imbedding in a nearby wall; neither noticed. Besides the fact they didn't hear the shots over the music, dealing with the supernatural all the time had made them virtually oblivious to hazards in the normal world. 

"It's tied now. Happy, Dean?"

"Yep. I don't want you falling and injuring that pretty little head of yours."

"Can we keep the caterpillar?"

"No, Sam. He has to go off and become a butterfly some day." Dean placed it on a nearby tree, atop a leaf. "There, now he has something to eat."

"You're a softy."

"Tell anyone, and I swear they will _never_ find your body."

"Never. I promise." Sam smirked. "As far as anyone is concerned, you are still a selfish, egotistical prick."

"Thanks, Sam. I love you too."

John came out and went to his truck, getting out a California license plate. "Put this on your car, Dean. Sam will ride with me in case you get stopped." He handed him two pieces of ID. "You are now Thomas Ainsworth of Los Angeles and you are a car dealer; that will explain a '67 Impala."

"Got it, Dad," Dean nodded, and the three headed off, avoiding the highway. 

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"What do we do now?" Michael asked.

"We follow them," Claudette said. "And I have another idea. Don't panic, lover. We're going to get our money."

"Why don't we just hit up another bank."

"Because, Mike, it's now the principal of the matter. Nobody gets the best of us and I mean **nobody**." She thought about the newscast. " **Especially** not a dumb farm boy from Nowheresville, Kansas."

"Uh, I hate to break this to ya, Claudie, but the news said he went to Stanford. Idiots don't go there, only those with intelligence."

"It doesn't matter."

"And his brother was a serial killer," Michael added. "Maybe this Sam Winchester is nuts himself."

"His brother isn't dead. He's probably in the witness protection program or something." She pointed to the cars. "The other guy is Dean Winchester. I recognize him from the news."

"And the old guy?"

"Probably an FBI agent sent to protect them. Those newscasts are all a smokescreen. What we do is off the agent and pin it on those two."

"Cool," Michael replied. "I like the way you think, baby."

"That's what makes us invincible," she smiled. "Now, let's go get them...and the money."

But they were about to learn that when it came to the Winchester men, nothing ever went as planned; for these men, nothing was ever average.

Oh yeah, they were about to enter the 'Winchester Zone', in which you were as far from normal as you could get.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

** 5\. THE CHASE IS ON **

The men stopped about three hours into the ride for some food. 

John thought they should keep going, but Sam kept bitching and his stomach kept growling, so his father acquiesced. 

Sam once again put on the baseball cap, and sunglasses, and the three took a booth in the rear. He once again ate like a pig, ordering two cheeseburgers loaded with everything, a double order of fries, but to keep it balanced, he ordered a side salad.

"Where do you put it, Sam?" John asked.

"I dunno. In my wrists?"

"Nah," Dean said, "his head. Didn't you notice how fat it was?" Sam threw a french fry at him and Dean caught it in his mouth. "Sammy can't do that." He flung a piece at Sam and Sam missed, the fry landing in his hair. "See. No coordination whatsoever."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

While they were eating, Claudette worked quick. Michael kept an eye out while she cut the brake lines on the Impala. She didn't have time to do anything to John's truck before they came out.

"Okay, babe," she told him, "once they run off the road, we put a hole in the fed, take out the brother's and we get the money."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam couldn't take being in the truck with his father. One more minute of opera and he was going to kill himself. He opted to take a chance and ride with Dean, grabbing the keys and revving the engine. 

"See you at the cabin, Dad," Dean grinned and got in with Sam.

Sam drove like a lunatic normally; on the desolate back country roads to Jacob's cabin, he didn't even notice the brakes barely worked. Taking a familiar turn-off he saw the house coming up. Sam didn't even try to use the brakes; he spun the wheel, the car taking two full spins and halting right in front of the house. He got out with a smug grin, followed by Dean.

John pulled up behind them, getting out of his truck. "Nice driving, Sammy."

"Pretty cool, little bro'," Dean added. "I keep telling him we should enter a race or two. Man, could we make big bucks."

"Dean," Sam said, "something's wrong with her."

"Since when did you become _Mister Goodwrench_?" John asked.

"I paid attention to **all** your lessons, Dad," Sam nodded. "Even when it seemed like I didn't." 

"Maybe she needs a tune-up, Sam," Dean said. "We'll work on her later."

"Okay," Sam smiled and he and Dean headed inside. 

Dean went from room to room, seeing that no runes needed to be drawn; Jacob was a thorough man and they were permanently etched into the walls. Sam seemed relaxed for the moment, flipping channels on the TV, so Dean left him and went to get their things from the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Any more bright ideas?" Michael asked Claudette. 

The two had followed the Winchester's, amazed that they made it to their destination in one piece. 

"He had no brakes," Claudette said aloud, wide-eyed. "They should have ran right off the road. How could anyone drive with no brakes? And nineteen miles!"

"I told ya, they're lunatics. I'm not so sure I care about the money or our reputations anymore." Michael pointed to the cabin. "Something is **not** right about them."

"I don't care!" she snarled. "I want them dead. D-e-a-d. Dead." 

They returned to their car and Claudette planned their next move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam stopped on the news and saw an old photo of his father on the screen. He turned up the volume and immediately wished he hadn't.

_"....father, John, was once believed to have been involved in the arson-related death of the boy's mother, Mary, in late November 1983. The father, once cleared, disappeared with his son's."_

Sam was so distraught that he went to one of the cabinets, finding a bottle of bourbon and poured himself a shot. He looked at the shot glass, then at the bottle, and opted for the bottle, taking a deep drink and gagging; unlike the rest of his family, he had never been much of a drinker.

_"Dean Winchester, prior to his death at the hands of SWAT team members, had a police record going back to the age of ten. This reporter has learned that young Dean's juvenile record included everything from petty theft to the attempted murder of a police officer at the tender age of eleven."_

"It was a she-demon," Sam muttered, taking another swallow of bourbon, ignoring the nausea. "And it was trying to kill me." 

_"Before Dean could be examined by psychiatrists, he disappeared once again with his father and younger brother. Various hospital records, also obtained by this reporter, show numerous visits to emergency rooms over the years, with unexplained bruises. John Winchester was questioned regarding this, but as appears to have been the norm, he vanished before authorities could get further information."_

Sam's vision was blurring, but not from the alcohol; he was crying. "It's not true, none of it. My Dad never hit us...never...."

John came inside and sat beside his son. "Sammy....?"

"They're saying you abused us. It's not true!"

"Sam, you know how reporters are. They don't care about the people they hurt, or the lies they sometimes tell." John attempted to change the station, but before he could move, the reporter continued. 

_"At the age of twenty-two, Sam Winchester's fiance, Jessica Lee Moore, died in a fire identical to the one that claimed the life of Mary Winchester. The two shared an apartment adjacent to Stanford University. Shortly before Ms. Moore's death, Dean paid a visit to his brother and at the time local police believed that the two murdered her. As to why they would commit this heinous act is anybody's guess."_

"Son," John said softly, taking the bottle away, "we know it's not true. And why the fuck are they still reporting on this? Despite Dean's...death, it's still a local Minnesota bank!" The next words from the news answered his question. 

_"Philip Clewson, who was shot by Winchester's female accomplice and had his car stolen, died one hour ago from the gunshot wound he received."_

"Oh God," Sam groaned loudly. "This is getting worse."

_"An interview with Ms. Moore's parents erupted in a scuffle when her mother, shown here, punched a reporter, all the while insistent that Sam Winchester would never harm her daughter, nor would he commit any type of crime. Moore's father told FBI agents that he doesn't believe it either, that Sam Winchester is a good and honest man and that they will do anything and everything to help prove his innocence."_

"You see, Sam," John tried to soothe, "even Jess's parents don't believe this nonsense."

"But...now the FBI is involved and...and...." Sam buried his face in the couch cushion, his drunken sobs louder.

John sighed to himself and went to get Dean, hoping his elder son could calm Sam down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michael had been lurking about and saw his chance at getting rid of one of the men. Dean was alone as he headed back to the house, AC/DC blaring through his Ipod. His guard was down, a rare thing for him, and he didn't even hear the footsteps behind him. Dean stood in front of the door and Michael took out his knife, lifted the blade and plunged it down, knowing he'd get Dean in the chest.

John opened the door fast and slammed Michael in the head, knocking him out cold; Michael rolled down a small incline, out of sight. Having heard the thump, John peeked behind the door, seeing nothing and figured he was hearing things. "Dean, I need some help with Sam."

"What?" Dean took the earphones out. 

John explained what the newscast had said. "He's a bit upset."

Dean went inside, took one look at Sam and decided the moment was ripe for some teasing and torture, as only big brother's could do it. Sitting down, he smirked. "You're going to jail, Sammy. Not only did you rob a bank, but you crossed state lines and I think that makes it a federal offense." He began to hum the theme from _The FBI_. "No law school for you...ever."

John pinched the bridge of his nose. Part of him wanted to smack Dean, the other had the urge to start laughing.

"I didn't mean to do it." Sam squeaked. "Oh God, I'll get put in a cell with some huge Neanderthal and end up his bitch."

"My fault, Dad," Dean said. "I let him watch OZ with me." He covered his mouth to stop the laughter.

"We'll let Dean take the rap," John said with a touch of mirth.

"I don't want Dean in jail! I thought maybe I'd actually be a lawyer one day. I'd spend most of my time defending the two of you, but still...." 

"Aww, Sam," Dean soothed, "I was just teasin' ya."

Sam didn't hear him. "I wanted to be F. Lee Bailey!" he wailed; a chair flew across the room. "Or at least Melvin Belli!" The table tipped over. "Now I won't even be Perry Mason!" All the pilot lights on the stove came on at once and foodstuffs flew out of the cupboards, all over the kitchen.

"What the fuck....?" John was staring open-mouthed at Sam. 

"Yes, Dad," Dean sighed theatrically, "your younger son not only has visions, he also does a mean _Carrie_ imitation."

"We'll discuss this later," John said calmly. "Sam, I think you need to sleep it off."

"C'mon Sammy, time for bed." Dean slid his arm around Sam's waist. 

"Okay." 

"You are **never** having another drink, bro'." He led Sam into the bedroom, pulled off Sam's shoes and left him to sleep, then rejoined his father.

"How long has **that** been going on?" John asked.

"A few months, since I told you about that kid Max. It was little things at first, like making pens write, but he's since graduated to larger objects, as you can see."

"Dean, if he doesn't learn some control over it, and he gets pissed at the wrong time...."

"We're still working on that."

"Get some rest yourself, Dean." John nodded to the bedroom. 

"You don't mind that I'm going to sleep with him?"

"I don't have a choice in the matter, do I?"

Dean smiled shyly. "I could sleep on the...."

"NO!" came Sam's shout, "He has no choice in the matter!"

"That answers that," Dean shrugged and walked into the bedroom. But he couldn't resist the question on his mind. "What would mom have said?"

"Your mother," John did laugh as he went to his own room, "would have been planning a wedding."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean kicked off his shoes and slid under the sheet. "Dad's kinda whacked about what you did out there. I thought you had more control then that."

"I'm sorry," Sam murmured, laying his head upon Dean's chest. "But...Dean, what if we can't clear my name?"

"If we can't, Sam, we just make you disappear. Find a body or something and fake your death."

"I'm sorry for crying. I know it's a sissy thing, but...."

"Who told you it was a sissy thing?" Dean asked. 

Sam tilted his head up. "You did, when I was nine."

"I was...I was....wr...wro...."

"Was that an 'I was wrong' coming out of your mouth?"

"No, of course not, Sammy. I'm never wrong."

"Not you, Dean. Never you."

Dean began to rub Sam's back, slow circles, soothing him to sleep. "You're going to feel like shit in the morning bro'."

"You gonna take care of me?" Sam murmured.

"Aspirin and coffee, baby brother. Just like you always give me." 

"Love you."

"Me too, you mushball."

"Sap."

"Go to sleep, Sam."

"Yes sir."

Sam was like a dead weight in Dean's arms a few moments later, but before Dean himself fell into slumber he had an epiphany...of the perverse kind. Sam calling him 'sir' made his dick hard as titanium. They were definitely going to have to explore this in the distant future.

Tomorrow sounded good.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

** 6\. CAUGHT **

Screeching tires at the crack of dawn, the sound of a car crashing into a garage, followed by some of the most foul-mouthed language known to man (and demon) raging loudly, would give the average man a cardiac arrest. 

Sam and Dean Winchester were not ordinary men. 

Sam just cracked his eyes open, stretched his body and sighed. "Dean, I think Dad just crashed the Impala."

"I know, Sam," Dean murmured in his ear. "I'm already thinking of ways to commit patricide."

"Ooh, it must be serious if you're using the big words." Sam got out of bed and opened the window, craning his neck to see what happened. "Dad, you alive?"

"Yes, son, thank you for FUCKING ASKING!" John bellowed back.

Sam looked down, seeing his father walking over. "Hey, Dad."

"Hello, Sam. Tell Dean his brakes died."

"Dad, what did you do to my car?!" Dean shouted.

"Get up, Dean. Let's go find out what happened." 

By the time the two men came outside, John was ready to open the hood. "Her brakes must have been worn. When was the last time you had her worked on?"

"I work on her myself," Dean told him. "Me and Sammy."

"It's **Sam**."

"Get over it, Sammy," John sighed. "Let's check under the hood first and take a peek." He tried to get the hood up, but it was stuck.

Dean smirked at Sam, who smirked back. 

"I'll do it, Dad." Sam concentrated, making use of the telekinesis like he and Dean had been practicing, and although the hood shook a bit, it didn't lift.

"It's not working, Dean," Sam told him. 

"You talking about the telekinesis, son?" John asked. "Try a bit harder."

So Sam did, but still nothing. 

"Maybe it was a temporary power, Sam," Dean suggested. "We'll do it the old fashioned way."

"It's not temporary," Sam insisted, trying one last time and finally conceding defeat, joining his father and brother.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Unbeknownst to the Winchester's, Sam's telekinetic power was in fine working order, if a bit unfocused.

Michael and Claudette stared as the hood of their car flew up...and off, landing right in front of them. 

Claudette was not a stupid woman. She'd observed what Sam had done the previous night and now her theory was confirmed. While watching the Winchester's through binoculars, Claudette saw what Sam was trying to do at the same moment as her own car fell apart; she put two and two together and unfortunately came up with four. "He's a fucking telekinetic, like Andrew Stevens in 'The Fury'." She noticed Michael's confused look. "Like 'Carrie'."

"You really been watching too many movies," he told her point-blank.

"I don't think so. C'mon, we're gonna spy a bit more. A guy like that could help us out."

"You really believe he has...psychic powers? And even if he does, which you'll have to prove to me or else I kill them all, why would he help us? The kid's a fucking college student."

"Mikey, don't **you** watch movies?" Claudette laughed out loud. "We snatch the fed and the brother."

"And....?"

Claudette rolled her eyes. "We kill the fed and threaten to do the same to the brother. Sam Winchester will do whatever we tell him to." She quickly outlined her plan and the two opted to wait for the right moment. 

They didn't have to wait long. 

Twenty minutes later John took off for the local garage to get a few parts for the Impala. But of course, being a gentleman, he stopped to help the woman on the side of the road, the woman who explained that she'd gotten lost, that her car had died and she needed a lift....

**~~~~~~~~~~**

The storm started out quiet, just a bit of thunder and a few lightning flashes, but within minutes buckets of rain were coming down. Then the power went out, which led to some vile curses from Dean, who was watching a hockey game on which he had a substantial bet. 

"Let's play cards," Sam suggested, as he watched Dean begin to pace. 

"Fine."

They played gin and rummy, spit and hearts, casino and even concentration, which was no fun when both players had photographic memories. 

Dean got an evil glint in his eyes. "Strip poker."

Sam just shrugged. "Deal 'em." 

Dean shuffled, dealt them each five cards. 

Sam looked at his cards, said "three," throwing three back to him. 

Dean nodded. "Dealer takes two." 

"Read 'em and weep," Sam giggled. He turned up three queens and two jacks. 

"Beats me," Dean shrugged, collected the cards and took off his shirt. 

Sam bit his lower lip in anticipation and Dean licked his lips. 

The next two hands saw Sam losing...and taking off his shoes. 

"Chicken," Dean leered, "what's wrong with pulling off your shirt?"

"Just deal 'em," Sam told him.

Dean didn't say a word, another hand was played and this time he forfeited a shoe. A few more rounds and Dean lost his other shoe, Sam lost his socks and his shirt followed by both their pants until finally both sat there in their underwear.

Dean handed the cards to Sam. "Let's do it...." One minute later Dean was removing his boxers. 

Sam grinned at him. "You lose." 

"No," Dean almost laughed as he urged Sam to his feet, "I win." The height difference made it possible for Dean to attack Sam's nipples with a vengeance, Sam stumbling back against the wall. "I love you, Sammy."

"Loved you since I was twelve," Sam panted, "since I saw you fucking Cindy Laird in the back seat of the Impala." 

Dean's lips descended with force, pressing hard upon Sam's, sucking Sam's lower lip into his mouth as he came up for air. "I've wanted you since your fourteenth birthday, when I saw you jerking off and...fuck, Sam, you were licking the come from your hand and it was so erotic and sensual...."

Sam's hands had taken on a life of their own, touching Dean everywhere, wanting Dean to touch him so badly. His hand moved to his briefs, but Dean grabbed both of Sam's hands, interlacing their fingers and moved Sam's arms to his sides.

"Don't move." 

Those two little words sent a mixture of both lust and fear right through Sam, but when Dean released his hands, Sam kept them in place. 

"Good boy...such a good boy, Sammy...." Dean slid his hands over Sam's shoulders, down his chest, teasing each nipple to hardness with tongue and teeth. Sam's skin felt like silk along his fingertips and he just let himself feel. "Beautiful, Sammy...you are so **fucking** sexy." Dean lay his palms flat upon Sam's chest, stroking down Sam's abdomen, back up, threading his fingers in Sam's long hair. He drew Sam's lips to his, brushing them briefly, leaning in to Sam's ear, nibbling the lobe, feeling the shiver in Sam's body. Dean had found a hot spot. "Sammy...love you so much...my Sammy...."

For the first time in years Sam welcomed that hated nickname, for the way Dean was speaking it was with reverence, like a prayer. Dean rubbed against Sam's clothed dick and Sam whimpered, he was so damn hard it was bordering on pain. His hands moved again to his briefs, but Dean pulled them away, "Not yet," stroking his fingers along Sam's cheek, across his lips. Sliding his hand around the back of Sam's neck, he pulled their mouths close, touching his lips to Sam's...the feeling was arousing to the extreme this time. Dean's tongue slid inside Sam's mouth, pressing his hands back against the wall, kissing and nibbling his way down Sam's body, giving Sam the benefits of his experience. 

"Please, Dean...I can't...oh God, I need...." Sam couldn't get a complete sentence out; his brain had short-circuited the moment Dean began to remove his briefs...with his teeth. 

Dean's hands were busy kneading Sam's asscheeks, his face buried in Sam's naked groin, inhaling the arousing scent of his brother. He swiped his tongue along the hip bone and Sam's hands gripped his shoulders; his legs were about to give out on him. Dean's hands immediately went to his waist, holding him steady. "I won't let you fall." 

"I know." Sam swallowed hard. "Please love me...show me how much you...." The rest of the words were lost as his cock was swallowed. His vision blurred, his breathing deepened and his legs grew wobbly. "Can't stand anymore." Sam felt himself falling, Dean's mouth leaving his needy dick, hands tightening on his waist, guided to the bedroom. Sam fell on the bed, watching Dean searching his duffel, before turning and waving a tube of lubricant in the air. "When did you buy that?"

"When I got my cigarettes in the drugstore."

Sam bent his left leg, giving Dean a clear view of his cock. He stroked himself slow, teasing the tip with his thumb. "Touch me...."

Dean knelt between his legs, gentle fingers slowly caressing. He brought his mouth up to the tip of the hard cock, swirling his tongue around it. Turning Sam over, he laid a bite on each cheek, before lightly licking the crack. Sam pushed back, but Dean stopped what he was doing. "Just relax. Let me take my time. It's more pleasurable that way." His tongue returned, dipping deeper, and Sam sighed as a finger entered simultaneously. The hands now moved to his waist, pulling Sam to his knees, spreading the cheeks even further. Dean licked, sucked, did just about everything to bring Sam pleasure. He pulled back, draping himself over his brother's lithe body, biting his shoulder. He heard Sam whimper again, kissing Sam's ear, murmuring, "I want you...want you so bad." 

"Anything...anything...just don't stop loving me...please don't stop." 

"I'll always love you, Sammy. Never doubt that." Dean didn't take his eyes from Sam as he picked up the lube, squeezing the gel onto his fingers. One slowly slid in, working its way in and out, before being joined by a second. Sam screamed and shoved back against his fingers. "You are so tight...so hot." A third finger slid inside, twisting, spreading Sam wide before him. Dean leaned over him again. "Gonna fuck you now...shove that big cock up your tight hole...tell me how much you want it...how much you need it...need **me**." 

Sam turned his head, meeting Dean's eyes. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. So he did the only thing he could...he lifted his ass high, impaling those fingers deeply, crying out as his prostate was touched again. 

Dean took Sam's ass in his palms, resting his dick against Sam's virgin hole. He was by no means a small man and the last thing he wanted to do was give pain to his brother. He eased in and stopped each time Sam tensed. Leaning down again, whispering, "Never hurt you," he eased further in, finally sheathing himself. "You have the tightest ass I have **ever** felt. I could stay like this forever and a day." Watching as Sam's eyes widened, he grinned. "But I won't...." He pulled out a bit, sliding in again, one hand holding on to Sam's ass, the other sliding up and down his back. "Oh yeah...oh God...." Both hands on Sam's hips now, Dean pulled out, slamming back in, hearing his balls slap against Sam's ass. Angling his thrusts, he found Sam's prostate again, grinning as the younger man screamed in clear pleasure.

He held Sam tighter, watching his cock move in and out. One hand finally moved, wrapping itself around Sam's swollen cock, jerking hard and fast, in rhythm with his movements in Sam's body. "Gonna come now...want you...with me...ohhh...Sammy...with me now...oh God!" He couldn't hold it any longer. One final thrust, his come bathing Sam's insides, and he felt the come in his hand, felt Sam spilling his seed. He fell over Sam, his arms around Sam's body, kisses over Sam's back. "Never...never felt like that before. I think it's what they call pure bliss...pure pleasure." He finally moved, wincing as he removed his cock from the heat that had surrounded it. 

Sam reached out his hand, pulling Dean beside him, snuggling in. "Can we cuddle for a while?" 

Dean gave him a smile, brushing his fingertips along Sam's cheek. "I like to cuddle." 

"Only with me?" Sam asked, very softly. 

"Only with you," Dean answered, a gentle kiss to Sam's mouth, feeling the yawn against his lips. "Sleep for a little while, then maybe you can return the favor."

"Mmm, yes sir," Sam murmured.

Dean's cock twitched. "Sammy, you really have to stop calling me _sir_."

"Why?"

"'Cause it turns me on and you need to sleep some more."

"I'm not tired," Sam said, covering his mouth as another yawn came. "And I like being on the bottom."

"That's good, because I only top." As Sam opened his mouth to reply, Dean shook his head firmly, making it clear there was to be no further discussion. 

Sam backed off...for now. "So, do we clean up or stay sticky?"

Dean went into the bathroom and came out, tossing a wet cloth to Sam. The rain came down heavier and he glanced out the window. "Dad should have been back by now."

"I'm sure he's fine, Dean. He's probably making a deal for the parts we need."

"I hope so." Dean wasn't so sure; something was nagging at him, a bad feeling. "Now, relax like a good boy while I go and get myself something to eat." He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt. 

"Oh, I'm good enough to screw, but not good enough to feed?" Sam teased.

"I didn't think you'd have an appetite. You usually don't after a binge."

"I had maybe four shots of bourbon."

"For you, Sammy, that's a binge." Dean shrugged. "You really want food?"

Sam thought for a moment and shook his head. "Nah. I'll eat later." He turned over, his thoughts wandering, eyes slowly closing, and he was actually starting to dream when he heard Dean's shouted, "Sam, could you come in here, please?!"

"Sleeping here...." Sam half-groaned back.

"Uh, Sam, I think you should come in here and do it now."

"Lemme alone." Sam rolled over and pulled the sheet over himself, ignoring Dean's repeated pleas to come into the other room. "Deal with it, whatever it is." He had just about drifted off again when he was grabbed by the hair and yanked to the floor. "WHAT THE HELL....?!"

"Shut the fuck up." Sam was kicked in the ribs and groped his side in pain. He lifted his eyes and focused on Dean, who was on his knees and apparently had his arms bound behind his back.

"Sam, meet bank robber number two," Dean actually laughed, which got him hit in the face with the butt of the gun. "Not the face," he whined. 

Michael turned to Sam, who sat on the bed and pulled the sheet over himself. "You have ten seconds to do the _Carrie routine_ or...." He cocked the gun and lay the barrel at Dean's temple.

"Carrie?" Sam looked totally perplexed. "I don't understand."

"She was watching you and said you're like Carrie and I told her if you didn't prove it to me, I was going to kill you all."

"All?" Sam asked.

"And if I don't call her in," Michael looked at his watch, "one and a half minutes, he gets his brains blown out."

Sam looked at Dean, who nodded. Concentrating on the lamp he lifted it about a foot...then it crashed to the floor.

"Sammy, now look what ya did."

"I'm sorry I don't have as much control over it as you'd like!" Sam fired back. "I've been doing it for what...five FUCKING months?!"

"You learn everything else quick!"

"Shut the fuck up," Michael said calmly, opening his cell and calling Claudette. "Okay, you convinced me." He listened for a moment, nodding his head. "Not a problem." He closed the cell and turned to Sam. "Get dressed." As soon as Sam was done, Michael hit him in the head with the butt of the gun, knocking him cold. 

"What'd you do that for?" Dean asked, watching Sam fall. 

"We don't want him using that power until we're ready." Michael bound Sam's arms and blindfolded him. "He can't use it if he can't see." He pulled Dean to his feet and pushed him towards the door.

"You can't just leave him there!" Dean struggled and found himself shoved against the wall. 

"Behave or I will do things to your brother that'll scar him worse then a bullet will." He yanked Dean's hair and ground his dick against Dean's ass. "I think you understand, don't you, **Dean**?"

"You know who I am?"

"Oh yeah, we watched the news. We figured you had to be in witness protection. Thus, the fed babysitting you."

'The Fed?' Dean thought, then realized he must mean John. 'Oh man, does this asshole have **his** wires crossed.' He heard Sam groan and opted to behave himself for now.

Michael led him out to John's truck, shoving him in and went back for Sam. Taking Sam by the arm, he said, "I told your brother and I'm telling you. Behave or your brother **and** the fed both get hurt."

Sam just nodded and allowed himself to be taken outside and pushed in next to Dean. 

"You okay, Sammy?"

"Peachy, Dean. My arms are tied behind my back and I'm blindfolded. And can I assume he blindfolded me so I can't...."

"Yeah, Sam, no telekinetic tricks."

"And he said something about a fed...."

"I'll tell you later."

Michael got in and started the engine. He leered at Sam, then stared into Dean's eyes. "Remember what I said."

'Touch him,' Dean thought, 'and I will flay the skin from your bones.' 

"Dean....?"

Dean wanted to put his arm around Sam's shoulders, hold him, explain what was happening, but he couldn't right now. "Don't worry about it, Sam. Trust me." Those two words calmed Sam and Dean noticed and smiled at his brother. 

And even though Sam couldn't see it, he knew, and smiled back.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

**7\. FREEDOM** \- Chapter Note: Mention of another TV Show (And yeah, you'll all recognize it, I hope)

"So," Dean started, "when did you cut the brakes on my car?"

Michael narrowed his eyes. "Yesterday, while you were in that diner. How the Hell you drove nineteen miles with no brakes...."

"Wow, Sammy, nineteen miles." Dean grinned. "I may not always like it when you drive, but I am impressed."

"Thanks, Dean," Sam smiled, grinned actually. He turned his head to Michael. "You were saying something about a fed....?"

"He's going to be a dead guy if you don't do what we tell you." Michael reached over and rubbed his fingers up Sam's thigh. 

Sam jerked away. "Don't touch me." 

Dean leaned over, not that he could do anything with his arms tied, but he was trying anyway, and just ended up banging his head into the dashboard as the truck screeched to a halt in front of a modest cabin. He just hoped the owners were away and not buried in the backyard.

Michael dragged Sam out of the truck and inside.

Dean got the door open and literally fell out, but quickly found himself pulled to his feet by Claudette. 

"Come along, Dean. We have a few things to discuss."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam was shoved onto the couch, Dean into a chair. 

Claudette held her gun to John's head. "Do as I say, and maybe the fed here doesn't die."

"The fed?" John asked Dean. 

"Yeah," Dean snickered. "They think you're _Eliot Ness_." 

"I'm not FBI," John smirked at Claudette, fighting back a laugh as he stared into the barrel of the gun pointed in his face. "Nice piece. Beretta PX-4, right?"

"Who are you?!" she demanded.

"John Winchester," he laughed aloud. "And these are my boys." John turned to Dean and shrugged. "Well, you did say you wanted to spend some quality time together...."

Dean returned the smile. "Yeah, I did, didn't I? Since Chicago, I've just felt that life's too fucking short, you know?"

Sam couldn't help himself; he began to giggle. "Oh my God. He's having a chick-flick moment."

"Fuck you, Sammy!" 

"Up yours, Dean-O!"

"BOYS!" John shouted at the two of them. "Didn't I raise you to mind your manners around strangers?"

"Sorry, sir," both young men said. 

"I'm going to shoot." Michael took his gun out. "Which one I haven't decided yet."

"Him." Dean nodded to his father. "I'm in the prime of my life and he's...not."

"Thank you, son," John smiled. "And fuck you too."

"Didn't you just say something about manners, Dad?" Sam was still laughing.

Dean faced Claudette. "Since you seem to be the brains of this outfit," he snickered a bit, "tell us what you want."

"All we want," Claudette told him, "is for 'Sammy' to help us out a bit. I have a few jobs in mind that he would be perfect for."

"I'm not doing it, whatever it is," Sam insisted. 

"Shut up Sam," John and Dean both replied.

"No I won't. I'm not doing anything and that's final."

"He gets that stubborn streak from your mother, you know," John said, slowly getting himself loose. These two so-called criminals, despite what **they** thought, were amateurs. 

"Like you're not stubborn?" Dean shot back. 

"Not like Mary. Once she made up her mind, there was **no** changing it."

"Really, Dad?"

"Really, Dean."

"I'll have to take your word for it." 

"Do you have a death wish?" Michael asked, waving his gun in Dean's face. 

"Hmm...." Dean seemed to ponder the thought. "Could be. I've never been psychoanalyzed so anything is possible."

"Caleb once said you were a textbook neurotic."

"Nah, Dad. I think I'm more psychotic then neurotic."

"I'd agree with that!" Sam laughed out loud. 

"They **are** crazy," Michael said. "But it doesn't matter. The kid's ass is mine...." He turned and managed to take one step toward Sam before he found the breath being squeezed from his lungs.

Dean had gotten to his feet and knocked Michael's legs out from under him, one knee pressed into the man's throat. "Nobody. Touches. Sam. But. Me." Each word was punctuated by more pressure on the man's throat. 

John got himself free just as he saw Claudette shift her gun from him to Dean. He was quicker then she was and snatched the gun from her hands. "Move and die." His faced was filled with such rage that Claudette simply nodded. "Now go sit in the corner like a good girl and maybe I won't shoot you." Once she was situated on the other side of the room, John focused back on Dean, who was making Michael turn blue at this point. "Dean," John said firmly, resting his hand on Dean's shoulder, "you'll kill him."

"And your point is?" Dean turned to John, with an actual pout. "They cut the brakes on my baby, Dad."

John rolled his eyes and undid Dean's wrists, but before he could do anything else, Dean's hands wrapped around Michael's neck and he slammed his head into the floor.

Sam was next, and John took his blindfold off and went to work on his ropes. Claudette made a move, but John saw and got off one shot, right next to her head. "I never miss."

She sat back in the corner.

Sam focused on his brother, and on Michael. "Hey Dean, maybe you should let him go. He's sorta turning purple now."

Dean punched Michael in the face one last time and got to his feet. "Can we use them as demon-bait?"

"Maybe," John told him. 

"Depending on what type of justice the system doles out," Sam added.

"You really believe in the system, Sammy?" Dean asked.

"I have to Dean. That's what being a lawyer is all about."

"Oh," Dean nodded, his attentions drawn completely to Sam. "So you _are_ going back to school."

"Of course I'm going back to school!" Sam knew the words were wrong the moment they'd left his mouth. He'd meant to tell Dean, to explain his plans, and now it came out like this. 

"Boys," John said calmly, "can we talk about this later?"

Michael saw his chance and ran into John, the two tumbling to the floor. The gun fell from John's hand and Claudette ran for it at the same time as Dean, the two butting heads hard and staggering backwards. 

"That hurt!" Dean shouted. 

"No shit!" Claudette yelled back, the two going for the gun again. 

They both literally took a dive for it, Claudette wrapping her hand around it and aiming it at Dean. "Now you die." 

"I don't think so." Sam focused on the gun, willing it to his hands, and for once his power behaved itself. "Oooh, it worked." He, in turn, aimed it at Claudette. "How about **I** shoot **you**?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "You can't shoot her. She's not a demon or possessed."

"How do you know?" Sam tightened his grip on the handle. 

"Say the magic word, Sammy," Dean sighed. "That'll prove it."

"We'll see." Sam took a deep breath, ready to fire. "Christo."

Nothing happened.

Sam loomed over her, not a difficult task for anyone who stood six foot five. "I said _Christo_."

"See, Sam," Dean snickered, "no demon. And the gun has bullets in it, so it wouldn't do you any good."

Sam ignored him and recited a few lines of Aramaic. 

"What was that?" Dean asked. "Something about appearances?"

"Roughly translated, 'Make the demon appear, so it may be vanquished'. It's a summoning spell I learned from some friends in San Francisco." Sam smirked. "I guess she isn't possessed, because the demon would have shown for sure."

"What friends in San Francisco?" Dean asked, **very** curious.

"A trio of witches," Sam shrugged, quickly adding, "but good ones. Sisters, as a matter of fact. I helped them battle an incubus, they taught me a few incantations that mere mortals can use." He couldn't help the snicker.

"Witches. You met witches in Northern California." Dean shook his head in disbelief. " _You_ are going to tell me about this later."

"I will, Dean? Then can I assume you'll still be talking to me?"

"You've met the Halliwell's, Sammy?" John asked. 

"You know them, Dad?" Sam smiled. 

"Oh yeah," John nodded. "Where do you think I got the _Dagger of Antigon_? It crossed Pru's desk at the auction house and she sent it to me, knew I could make use of it, which I did of course. And they're Bobby's cousins...on their father's side."

Sam tossed the gun to Dean. "Can I hit her?"

"Okay," Dean happily told him.

"NO!" John snapped. "I thought I raised you better then that. You **never** hit a woman unless she's under the influence of a demon...or she hits you first."

"Just let him get one punch in, Dad," Dean insisted. "One pop in the nose."

Michael finally spoke up. "Demons? Claudie, are you convinced they're nuts already?"

"No," she sneered, and turned to Sam. "'They're just fucking with our heads."

Dean pulled Claudette to her feet. "Time to go visit the police station and tell the nice people what you did."

John pulled Michael up and they headed toward the door. "Vanquished, Sammy?" 

"Well, it **would** have shown itself at least," Sam opened the door, but before he could step out, he was thrown across the room, hitting the wall and falling to the floor, the door slamming shut.

"What the fuck....?" Dean backed up with Claudette, John with Michael. 

Sam sat up, holding his head. "I think it worked."

"What?" Dean asked.

"The spell," Sam replied with a small smile. "There must have been a demon nearby and it heard my words and...."

"Paid us a visit?" Dean took a deep breath. "Sam, what are we going to...vanquish...it with?"

"What the fuck just happened?" Michael asked, already knowing, but wanting to hear it from somebody else.

"A demon threw Sam into a wall," Dean shrugged. 

"This is fucking real!" Michael screamed.

"NO!" Claudette pulled free from Dean. "I refuse to believe in this shit!" She ran for the door and it opened; what stared at her had blood-red eyes and looked only partially human.

Michael backed away. "What the fuck is that?!"

"SHOOT IT!" she screamed at Dean.

John shook his head. "Bullets just piss these things off."

Sam was backing up, towards the adjoining room. He didn't take his eyes from the demon as he opened the door. The demon either didn't notice or didn't care. Sam figured it was the latter. As far as the demon was concerned, Sam was just another human it could deal with later. He slammed the door shut behind himself and went for the window.

"What is he doing?" John asked, as the demon came closer. 

"I don't have a fucking clue," Dean sighed. "But I'm sure he's got it all planned in his head."

The demon advanced on Dean, who shot it a few times. Of course nothing happened and he turned to Claudette with a smirk. "Like he said. Bullets just piss 'em off."

Claudette literally hid behind Dean, while Michael threw a punch at it. 

The demon grabbed him by the neck and looked deep into his eyes.

Michael screamed...and fainted dead away. 

Then it grabbed John, and all John could think about was his younger son....

Once outside, Sam ran to the front of the cabin and located John's truck. He was quick, grabbing the flask of holy water John always kept in the glovebox, and John's sawed-off rifle from under the front seat; he knew it would be loaded with rocksalt. Kicking the door open, he found his father being choked, while the other three lay in a heap on the floor. 

The thing heard him and turned, dropping John. 

John took a moment to catch his breath, nodding to Sam, who tossed him the gun. 

The demon approached Sam, who opened the holy water and threw some, reciting an exorcism ritual, hoping it would work on a non-possessed person. In reality, it was the only ritual he knew by heart. 

It worked, albeit for a few seconds. The demon reached for Sam, pausing for a moment. 

But that moment was all John needed. "Duck, Sammy!"

Sam did as he was told, hitting the ground as John fired twice. 

It reached for Sam, but Sam splashed holy water in it's face. 

John fired once more and the thing stilled. Of course he had to put one last bullet into it's head for good measure.

"Parthus demon," John took a deep breath. "I hate those things."

"Gonna have to burn it Dad," Sam said.

Once Claudette and Michael were tied up and tossed into the back of the truck, the Winchester men went to work burning the demon, which thankfully went up quickly, and with less stench then usual.

They drove back to the cabin, needing to get their things together in case the police came to Jacob's place. Any trace of 'Dean Winchester' needed to be erased; Dean needed to stay dead, at least for now. 

It was late when they returned and they opted to stay the night, handing Michael and Claudette over to the authorities in the morning. The three men secured the two robbers and cleaned themselves up. John opted to stay in the living room, ordering his sons to get some sleep.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"When are you going back to school?" Dean asked, afraid his brother would answer something along the lines of, 'Next week'. 

"When the Demon is dead...." He saw Dean's mouth open and placed two fingers to Dean's lips, shaking his head. "Let me finish. Once it's dead, yeah, I intend to finish my education." Sam smirked. "And you're coming back to school with me."

"I am?"

"Dean, you have a brain. We can hunt at night, on the weekends and vacations and all summer long."

"And what would I study?" 

"You can look at a course catalogue, but I think you'd make a great cartographer."

"Then I could track demons wherever they may be," Dean laughed a bit. "And keep very anal maps."

"I'm amazed you know what a cartographer is," Sam teased. "It has more then two syllables."

"And you'll be Perry Mason. Cool." Dean laughed some more. "When I'm arrested, I can finally utter the classic line, 'I want to call my lawyer,' instead of waiting for a public defender while they grill me about something." 

"Dean, the University of Kansas has a good law program." Sam took his shirt off. "It's a few miles from Lawrence and I happen to know there's a house we can move into."

"Our old house?" Dean asked with a small smile. "The place everybody thinks is haunted?"

Sam kicked his sneakers off and stretched out on the bed. "Dad **does** still own the property. He made a deal to take back the house after what happened with Jenny, the demon and mom." 

Dean began to pace, thinking, muttering to himself. 

"You are smart enough," Sam told him, having heard some of his mumbling.

"Doesn't matter, Sam," Dean sat down, his sneakers off as he lay beside his brother. 

"How so?" 

"Dean Winchester is dead. He can't go back to school."

Sam smirked and rifled his duffel, "I've been prepared," and waved a piece of paper in his hands. "Take a look at this."

Dean looked over the paper, looking seriously confused. "And....? This is from Lawrence High and it's Uncle Tommy's diploma, not mine."

"Check out the year, Dean. I did some artwork and fixed it."

Dean **did** look closer. The name was still Thomas Winchester, but the year of graduation had been altered from 1969 to 1996. 

"I also have some transcripts of mine, but they say 'Thomas Winchester' now. You can use his name. He's been dead for eight years and I don't think he'll mind. He always did like you best."

"I...." Dean turned away, shaking his head. "I don't know what to say, Sam."

"Say you'll go back to school with me. I don't want to go by myself."

"Okay, but maybe we should take a look at a catalogue. Mapping is fun, but...."

Sam took Dean's face in his palms, lifting it so their eyes met. "Dean, I don't care if you get a degree in Liberal Arts. As long as you're with me, everything will be fine."

"Okay, Sammy."

"I'll even help you with your reports and...."

"Okay, Sam."

"I'll do our laundry, keep the house clean...."

"SAM!"

"What?"

"I said okay." Dean smiled and leaned in for a kiss. "I'll go with you."

The smile that crossed Sam's face was one of pure joy and his eyes lit up. "You mean it?"

"I've never lied to ya, Sammy. We'll go together."

"I love you, Dean."

"Of course you do." Dean kissed him again, "I'm irresistible." He stood and pulled off his shirt. "I stink. I'm gonna take a shower."

"I'd join you, Dean, but that stall is barely big enough for one, let alone two."

"We _could_ use the one in the other room. It's big enough for two." Dean waggled his eyebrows. 

"I'll wait."

"And I'll be quick and then it's your turn and then we can go to bed and I can fuck you senseless."

"That's a run on sentence, Dean and it'll get you a 'D' in an English class."

"I guess I'll have to sweet talk my professors into giving me 'A's'." Dean laughed again as he headed into the bathroom. He showered fast and came out, passing Sam, who kissed him, hurried inside and washed as quick as he could.

By the time Sam came out, Dean was asleep. Sam nearly woke him, but thought better of it. 'We both need rest,' he thought. He climbed into the other bed, and turned over, ready to drop off himself. 

"Sam?"

"Thought you were sleeping."

"Aren't...aren't you going to sleep with me?"

"Dean, we both need actual sleep. It's been a hell of a few days."

"I _do_ want to sleep, Sam. I just don't want to do it alone." 

Sam got up and moved to the other bed, spooning up behind his brother. "Dean, why don't you ever bottom?" he asked out of the blue. "Were you...did somebody....?"

"No, Sam, I've never been raped. I tried bottoming once and I didn't like it." Dean pulled away from Sam. "It hurt like all Hell and it is **not** an experience I care to repeat. And I'm tired and I want to sleep."

"It didn't hurt when you did me." Sam crawled atop him, using his size to keep his brother pinned underneath. 

"Sam, please don't." Dean tried to push Sam off him, but his brother didn't budge. 

"I'm not going to touch you like that, Dean." Sam kissed a path from Dean's shoulder to his neck, up to his ear. He blew hot breath in Dean's ear and sucked the lobe, hearing Dean hiss with pleasure. "You like?"

"God yes," Dean almost moaned, struggling to turn over. "Please, Sammy, you can stay on top. I just want to be able to see you is all." He turned to face a smiling Sam. "What?"

"I love you, I just wanted to tell you again." Sam gave him another kiss and slid over, propping his chin in his palm. "Dean, I'm still scared."

"Sam, you sound like a six year old. What are you scared about?"

"We got them, but what if we can't prove I had nothing to do with the robbery?"

_Now_ Dean understood. "I told you, we fake your death and...."

"No, Dean, we can't."

Dean pulled Sam atop him again. "Then we face it head on, together. You, me..." another bright smile, "...and Dad."

"You think Dad will stand by me?" Sam laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "He'll probably take off again."

"I don't think so, Sam." Dean sounded quite sure. "In fact," he stole a kiss, "I know so."

There was a knock on the door and the two men pulled apart. Sam tried to get up, but Dean pulled him back down. 

"What?" Dean called out. 

John opened the door, coming inside and closing it behind himself. He sat on the edge of the bed, studying his sons.

Sam looked terrified, but Dean was clearly calm, holding Sam in his arms. "He thinks you're going to leave him, Dad."

"I'm not leaving, Sammy. Not until this is over." John reached out and brushed Sam's hair from his face. "I came in to say good night. Tomorrow, you and I take Bonnie and Clyde to the police. Dean, you get your stuff together and take off. I told you, I don't want you anywhere around here."

Sam turned to Dean, his whole body trembling. 

"Sam," Dean smiled and kissed him chastely, "I'm not disappearing. I'll head to Rockham and stay with Bobby until you need me."

"And I," John smiled again, "am going to leave you two alone." He attempted to get up, but was quickly pulled into a hug by Sam. 

"I love you, Dad."

John had to bite back a tear that threatened. "Sammy, I've fucked things up in your lives enough over the past twenty years. It's about time I tried to make up for it."

"And me and Dean?" Sam asked. 

"It's 'Dean and I', college boy," John ruffled his hair again. "I told you, I don't disapprove. Not that I'm jumping for joy, but I won't even try to split the two of you up. Hell, if you boys weren't brothers, I myself would be planning a wedding." He heard Sam sniffle against his shoulder. "Oh Christ, just what I need, chick flick moment number seventeen." John kissed the top of Sam's head. "And I love you too." He left them, walking back into the living room. 

"See, Sam," Dean lay down, Sam in his arms, "everything is going to be okay."

"Not yet," Sam stated firmly, rolling atop Dean again. "But it will be." He began to grind his swollen dick against Dean's. "I want...please, Dean, please let me do this."

Dean closed his eyes, nodding slowly. He couldn't refuse Sam anything, not now. 

"Roll over."

"WOOF!" Dean giggled, then gasped when he received a smack on the ass. 

"Don't ruin the moment, Dean." Sam grabbed the tube on the nightstand. "Let me love you." He couldn't wait and slicked himself quick; God he wanted to be inside Dean. 

Dean began to buck up, trying to get Sam off of him. "Sam, I changed my mind." But Sam wouldn't budge and slid his thick cock in. It was as painful as Dean remembered, and he winced, resolving himself to more pain. 

Sam sensed the emotional shift in his brother and he stilled, hands rubbing Dean's back. "'S'okay...it's only me." Dean relaxed again and Sam let out the breath he'd been holding. 

"I can't do this, Sammy."

"Yeah, you can, Dean. Stop fighting me." Sam glanced down at his dick, buried within his brother. That made him even harder and he undulated his hips, getting a moan from Dean, who began to move with him. He eased Dean to his knees, taking Dean's cock in his fist, Dean fully open to him. Sam had to fight the urge to thrust inside. He had to take it slow, he needed Dean to trust him. 

"Sam, quit thinking and fuck me."

"Geez, pushy bottom, aren't you." But Sam obeyed and began to move, pulling out a bit and thrusting back in, moving a bit harder, a bit faster. 

"FUCK ME!"

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Jesus Christ, you're fucking perverts." Claudette curled her lip at John. "Your son's are...."

"Involved," John sniggered, picking up the iPod and listening to some music while he read a book. He was going to have to talk with the boys about being so loud in the future. Especially when he was around. 

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Sammy...oh God...so good, so fucking good."

"Good from this end also," Sam cracked, taking hold of Dean's ass and spreading him wider. He felt Dean bucking against him, this time drawing him deeper. "Going to...oh fuck, Dean, I'm gonna come...come inside you...." And he did, vision blurring as his orgasm took him over, Dean shooting a few minutes later. Sam eased himself out, a soft kiss to Dean's ass, rolling Dean over. "Dean?" He saw the tears in Dean's eyes. "Oh God, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Oh no, Sammy, you got it all wrong." Dean pulled his brother down and kissed him. "I love you so much." He was smiling through his tears. "So, so much."

"Now who's having a chick flick moment?" Sam returned the kiss and wiped the tears away. "And I love you more."

"Impossible."

"How about we argue about it in the morning." Sam grabbed some tissues and cleaned them as best he could, before settling down, holding onto Dean. " **Now** we can go to sleep."

As Sam drifted off he heard Dean's murmured, "You can top anytime you want."

Sam smirked. "I intend to, Dean. At every possible moment."

The next morning they took the robbers to the police station and the Impala to the nearest garage, where John oversaw the repairs. Dean would never forgive him if he left her alone with strangers.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Michael confessed to the robbery, admitting that Sam had nothing to do with it, and begged to be sent to prison. 

Claudette was another story. She went wild in court and attacked Sam, screaming that he had brought forth the devil to kill her and Michael. Then she cackled maniacally about the brother's Winchester having an incestuous relationship. She turned to Michael, expecting him to agree with her. 

Michael was a bit smarter then he looked and did **not** back her up. 

She attacked him, calling him all kinds of names, and insisted again that demons were real and they were coming after her. They took Claudette away and **not** to prison.

And thanks to her outburst, John was able to clear Dean's name, explaining that Claudette had framed Dean the year before, that she was obviously deranged. 

It worked and Dean Winchester walked out of the courthouse with his life back.

Until all was cleared up, Sam had to spend some time in the state prison. It took almost a week before John and Dean were able to get him out. And it only got worse as they spoke with the warden.

"Why is my son in solitary confinement?" John asked, horrified at what Sam had to go through.

Dean's hands were gripping the armrests so hard the leather was ripping.

"He **was** and it was for protection," the warden replied. 

"Oh my God." Dean **did** tear the leather. "Someone hurt him?"

"We'll sue your asses off, you son-of-a-bitch!" John snarled; he looked like a mad dog.

"Mister Winchester," the warden put his palms up and shook his head, "your son is fine. He hasn't a mark on him."

"Then why was he in solitary?" John's teeth were bared, ready to tear the warden's throat out. "And where is he now?"

Dean got one look at his father and his own fear and anger were forgotten for a moment. Putting his hand on his father's shoulder, he leaned in and whispered, "Dad, I'd like to leave here, not become a resident. If Sam has one new mark on him we take this asshole with us on the next hunt..." Dean pulled back and smiled maliciously. "...as bait."

John met his son's concerned eyes and nodded, facing the warden. "You didn't answer my question."

"In the six days your son has been here, our prison infirmary has received five inmates with serious injuries, including Sam's cellmate his first night here." The warden furrowed his brow. "What surprised me was that all of them were twice your son's size. And they all admitted they had instigated the fights." The warden paused. "Sam was given another cellmate who is now terrified of the dark, as are half a dozen other men in the cellblock." The warden paused. "Sam was then moved to a different cellblock. Within one day I had three men transferred to Wingate Asylum; they are still insistent that a 'ghostly' blonde woman, in a white nightgown no less, chased them around the cellblock threatening to cut their balls off if they went near your son."

That made John want to laugh, but he bit his inner cheek to stop even the hint of a smirk. "Mary," he murmured.

"So, where is my brother?" Dean kept glancing at the door, worried about Sam's safety. 

The warden made a call and assured John and Dean that Sam would be there shortly. He was showering and getting changed.

The moment they got outside, John and Dean asked Sam what he had done to the other inmates.

"Nothing," Sam smirked. "They tried to get fresh with me in the shower and I sort of convinced 'em the place was haunted." He began to laugh aloud. "I turned on all the shower heads and made the towels fly off the walls. It was great." He quickly sobered at the look he got from his father. "What?"

"You can't do that in front of people, Sam," John said seriously. "The government **does** have some...shady branches, trust me."

"I didn't think," Sam forced a smile. "You think I'll be safe?"

"I'm sure you will be, Sammy," John smiled back, "due to the circumstances and the fact that it's a prison. The warden is convinced that they're all bucking for a transfer out to a cushy hospital." 

"Sam. Sam, already, Goddamit! Even mom called me Sam!"

"You saw her?" Dean asked, a bit disappointed.

"She, uh, came to me." Sam's voice broke. "My first night in the cell. I was so scared, Dean, but she told me I didn't have to be, that she'd watch out for me just like you do."

Dean leaned against the car and held his brother tight, rubbing his back. "Never be scared, Sammy. I'll never let anything happen to you, I swear." 

"Is she still here, Sam?" John asked quietly.

Sam shook his head. "Mom said she loves us, but she had to go, that she wouldn't be back, and that we **would** see her again...someday. But not for a **very** long time. Oh, and she said that **you** ," he pointed at John, "need to get on with your life." He blushed.

"What, Sam?" John prompted.

"That you..." Sam's blush got deeper, "...need to get laid more often because it would help your," he laughed, "sunny disposition." He looked perplexed. "And for some reason she said you need to go visit Bobby. That he'd have all the answers you need."

_John_ actually blushed. 

"Dad," Dean grinned, "you sweet on Bobby?"

"Shut up, Dean. I don't...I like women."

"You never know, Dad." Sam shrugged. "You find love in the weirdest places."

"You shut up also."

"So, uh, Dad," Dean said, "I guess it's time for us to split up."

"For now," John told them, hugging both his sons. "I love you both and yeah, I am _very_ proud of the two of you."

"Thanks again, Dad," Sam smiled as he got in the car. 

"Take care of him, Dean."

"I will, Dad. I swear."

John got into his truck and watched his sons drive off. It was only then that he permitted a tear to fall. He flinched as he felt the fingers caressing his face and for just a moment he saw...."Okay, I'll go to Rockham." He heard the soft laughter in his head and grinned. "But if you're wrong...." He felt the smack upside his head. "Okay, you're always right." 

At least with Bobby he was guaranteed a homecooked meal and some good conversation. And Bobby did have nice eyes, eyes that smiled at him all the time. And that stupid laugh of his always did make John's stomach do flip-flops.

As he began to drive off, he muttered, "Women...." and smiled to himself. "They're always fucking right."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

** 8\. RESTITUTION AND RESURRECTION **

It took three days to return to Duluth.

They would have made it sooner, but spent two and half of those days in a bed, in a nameless motel, living on spray cheese, Ritz crackers, Corona's with lime and sex...and sex...and more sex. And just when they thought they were spent and done, drained dry...they were getting hard all over again. 

Dean woke Sam up the first morning with a blow-job and Sam woke Dean the second morning with his dick buried in Dean's ass. They fucked in the shower, screwed on the desk, and took turns riding each other in the chair. They cuddled and whispered words to one another, words like _love_ and _commitment_ and _forever_. They decided that not even death could part them, for they would find each other in the afterlife, whether it be Heaven or Hell. 

But on the morning of the third day, Dean had come to a decision - they were going to return to Duluth and obtain an apology from the bank...and more if possible. 

After his experience as a felon, Sam had vowed to never enter a bank again. He'd transact whatever business he had at the ATM or use online banking.

Dean hadn't been able to transact any business in a bank since being declared a serial rapist/killer and killed in a shootout with the police. He'd always liked going into the bank itself, avoiding online banking when possible. As such, with both his name restored and his record cleared, he opted to make the bank suffer for what they did to his baby brother - accusing him of bank robbery and destroying Sam's good name. Sam was the only Winchester without any type of black mark on his record, and Dean intended to keep it that way. He felt that was his job as Sam's big brother. 

And so he entered the First National Bank Of Minnesota, Duluth branch, on a bright and sunny Tuesday morning, while Sam decided to go across the street and have some breakfast. He didn't know what Dean was going to do, but was prepared to break his brother out of jail if need be. It turned out he needn't have worried. 

Dean entered the bank and was immediately greeted by the managers, and assistant managers, and the teller who had accused Sam of the robbery. They all apologized profusely and Dean smirked inwardly. He was going to milk this for all it was worth...and then some. 

Oh yeah, the con man was out and he was ready to go to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean didn't show up for almost two hours, finding Sam in the library, reading magazines. He put a stack of papers down and handed Sam a pen. "Just sign where your name is printed."

"What am I signing?"

"Read, Clarence Darrow."

Sam did, taking almost an hour to sort through it all. Once he was done, he stared at Dean in awe. "How did you do this?" 

"Sam, they owed us...fucking owed **you** , and they were going to pay."

"I know **why** , Dean. I asked you **how**."

"That stupid bank accused you of robbery and I felt, as your attorney, that a substantial monetary settlement was in order."

"My attorney?" Sam still couldn't believe it. "Dean, representing yourself as a lawyer is a felony...I think."

"Who cares. Now start signing so I can take them back to the bank."

Sam signed one. "Okay, this makes us joint account holders of a...." He couldn't say the amount out loud. "A shitload of money."

Another. "This one opens me an IRA at...SEVENTEEN PERCENT?!"

"I got one too," Dean snickered. "I'm thinking of Miami at sixty-five, playing shuffleboard and bingo. And we got a few CD's at nineteen point five...and that's the APY."

"I will never accuse you of being stupid again," Sam signed a few more, "and I like bingo." Dean held out one last piece of paper for him to sign. "Dean, what is this?"

"Oh, that, uh...Sammy, after we kill the demon, you said you'd wanna...."

"Dean, this says they guarantee full and total payment of any and all school expenses incurred by Sam Winchester."

"Well, yeah."

"What about you? Who's going to pay your tuition?"

"About that, Sammy...."

"You promised."

"Sam, I promised to go with you, not to take any classes." Dean palmed Sam's cheek. "And I **will** go with you. Okay?"

Sam slowly nodded, accepting this...for now. 

"That's my boy," Dean stole a kiss. "I'll be back shortly with some of our cash."

"How much, Dean?"

"Enough so that we can stay in the fanciest hotel in the city."

They decided to check into the Hilton and entered the lobby.

Ten minutes later they were back in the Impala and speeding out of town. 

Three women Dean had known in nearby Minneapolis had tracked him to the Hilton and screeched like groupies at seeing him alive. They attempted to molest him in the lobby, kissing him and touching him **everywhere** , much to Sam's chagrin.

Sam was about to intervene and use his power and toss them across the room, (and damn whoever saw him) but thankfully it didn't come to that. 

The first woman asked Dean if they could go to his room. 

The second said she'd known him longest and would get him first. 

The third one sneered, "I don't think so," and punched the second one in the face. 

Then the first one attempted to pull Dean away and the second one punched **her** , but then her hair was yanked by the third woman. Punches began to fly between the women, and Dean watched, a huge grin plastered across his face. Catfights had always been a real turn-on.

"Dean?"

"In a minute, Sammy."

"Security, Dean."

Dean glanced around, seeing the hotel guards running over. He nodded to Sam and that's when the two fled the scene, got to the Impala and took off, heading west because that was the first ramp onto the interstate. They had been driving for about a half hour, laughing about what had happened in Duluth, Dean swearing up and down he didn't remember **any** of the women. There was quiet and then Dean's cell began to ring and it kept ringing for forty minutes straight. Dean let it go to voicemail as he didn't recognize any of the numbers. 

Sam finally took the phone and played back a few of the messages - all from women. He heard all kinds of accents, from _Brooklyn_ and _Boston_ to a genuine _Scarlett O'Hara_. All were happy (amongst other adjectives) that Dean was alive, never having believed he was a rapist/serial killer. Only a few women (amongst them Cassie) had known that Dean had never died in the first place; the majority were oblivious. 

The messages were getting raunchier as Sam played them, with some of the **filthiest** language Sam had ever heard. These were followed by lewd descriptions of sexual acts...described in **extreme** detail by a few. _Scarlett O'Hara_ called three times and by the time Sam was finished with her final message, he was a clear shade of crimson...and jealous...and slightly...miffed. "CHRIST DEAN!" he bellowed, making Dean jump. "How many women have you SLEPT WITH?!"

"FUCK SAMMY, I DON'T KNOW!" Dean screamed back, grinding his teeth, taking deep breaths to calm himself. The last thing he needed was a fight with Sam. He reached over with his right hand, stroking his fingers along Sam's face. "Does it really matter, Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "No, I'm just a little jealous is all."

"Nothing to be jealous of, Samantha," Dean teased. "And why is this happening to me? And _how_?" Dean's phone went off again and he opened his window, ready to toss it, but paused and looked at the caller ID. "It's Dad." 

Sam took the phone. "Hi Dad," and listened for a moment. "Okay, we will. See you tomorrow." He closed the phone. "Dad said we need to watch the news and that Gran would like to see us."

"You didn't rob another bank, did ya, Sammy?"

"Fuck you, Dean."

"Let's get to a motel first, babe."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

They drove until dusk and Sam checked them into a small motel, requesting a room in the rear. They practically hid the car, not knowing what was going to happen in the near future. Entering the room, Sam practiced the use of his power by turning on the lamp with a thought, while Dean did his proverbial bug check.

"Hey Sam, we're about a day outside of Vegas and we could...."

"No."

"We could quadruple our reward and...."

"No."

"A suite at the...."

"No."

"Think you could turn the TV on, Carrie?"

"Sure, Dean." Sam picked up the remote, but Dean snatched it.

"Practice makes perfect, baby."

Sam rolled his eyes, but nodded. He focused on the TV, easing his mind, thinking, _On_. When the TV did just that, Sam turned to Dean, a grin on his face. "It worked."

"Up the volume, Sammy," Dean said, following with, "please?"

Sam knew Dean was right, that he had to practice. He faced the TV and thought, _Loud_. 

"SHIT, SAMMY!" Dean screamed, reaching for the remote and turning it down. "I said up the volume, not deafen me."

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam framed Dean's face in his palms. "Will you forgive me if I blow you?"

Dean was about to answer with a resounding **FUCK YEAH!** when both men clearly heard the name "Dean Winchester" on the TV. 

Both turned and listened to the newscaster. 

_"....were dropped. An apology has been made on behalf of the city of Saint Louis by the Mayor, the Chief of Police and the SWAT Captain who made the original accusations."_

Dean and Sam sat down to watch, kicking their shoes off and sliding up the bed.

"Holy shit, Dean! That's your DMV picture. You hate that thing."

"Shut up, Sam."

Dean upped the volume as the newscaster continued. 

_"Once again, to recap, Sam Winchester has been cleared of both robbery and murder charges and will be...."_

Dean muted the sound. "Tell us something we don't know."

"Dean, turn it up," Sam said. "They're showing that lousy photo again."

Upon seeing his picture again, Dean hit the volume. 

_"Dean Winchester was not only cleared of being an accomplice, but was also cleared of rape and murder charges in the city of Saint Louis. This reporter has learned that the elder Winchester brother has had to live on the lam for the past year, and, like the fictional Richard Kimble, has been trying to clear his name. He was forced to make all believe he was dead, killed by a SWAT team, in order to protect his loved ones. I am sure there are many out there who will be happy to know their friend is alive, and also why he had to deceive them."_

"That explains all your phone calls," Sam sighed. 

_"Claudette Barnes, seen here in her first arrest photo in 1980, is believed to have arranged the murders in Saint Louis and framed Winchester, as she did his brother Samuel for bank robbery. Barnes does have ties to organized crime and is a reputed hitman, or hitwoman, and the Saint Louis authorities are speculating that this may be a factor in the murders."_

"Wow," Dean murmured to the air, staring open mouthed as he listened. "This is...."

"You must have a guardian angel, Dean," Sam laughed, as he leaned in for another kiss. "Let's hear the rest...."

_"Barnes has been ordered by a federal judge to remain at Wingate Psychiatric Center indefinitely. During the trial, she attacked Sam Winchester and accused him of being in an incestual relationship with his brother, as well as being a 'devil worshipper' who had brought forth Satan to kill both her and her 'associate' Michael Ewing. Ewing did not refute her accusations, and is serving a twenty-five year sentence at the State Penitentiary. And this reporter was inundated with over **fifty** phone calls and emails from women across the country who are willing to attest that Dean Winchester is definitely **not** in this type of relationship with his brother."_ The newsman grew silent and looked to the side of the camera, shrugging. _"Look, it's what the emails **basically** say and I'd be arrested if I read some of them verbatim."_ He turned back to the camera. _"In other news...."_

"There is only you from now on, Sammy. I swear." He leaned in for a kiss...and Sam's cell went off. 

"Sarah," Sam told him, answering the call. He shrugged at Dean, said, "Hello," and listened for a few minutes. "You believed the accusations!" He was pacing, growing frustrated. "I know, but how could you...."

"Gimme the phone!" Dean snapped, snatching it. "Sarah, if you really cared about him, or knew him at all, you never would have believed it in the first place. And he's taken now, so you really need to stop calling." Dean paused. "Yeah, what she said in court was true. Sam and I...." He paused again, listening, turning different colors and finally settling on almost purple. "I should have known you were a Class-A bitch! The nice ones always are!" He held the phone away from his ear as she continued to scream. "You got that right! No line, no waiting and to the TENTH RING AND BEYOND!" 

"DEAN!"

Dean closed the phone and threw it; he was fuming. 

Sam caught it and turned it off, doing the same to Dean's. He placed his hands on Dean's arms, slowly caressing up and down, calming his brother. "Hey, take it easy, baby. Who cares what she thinks?"

"I thought you cared about her."

"I thought I did too." Sam rested his hands on Dean's shoulders, taking advantage of the height difference, backing Dean against the wall. "Let me make love to you, Dean." He placed a chaste kiss to Dean's lips and bent his head, lips upon Dean's neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses across to his right shoulder. Pulling back a bit he lifted Dean's shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

"Sammy?"

"Shhh," Sam murmured in his ear. "I'm going to make this so good for you." His mouth descended on Dean's once more, a soft kiss, fingers deftly opening Dean's pants, caressing the tip of Dean's cock. Precome on his fingers, he brought them up, softly sighing as Dean sucked on them. His free hand slid down Dean's rear, cupping his ass, grinding their bodies closer. "Mine, Dean." Sam dropped to his knees, easing Dean's pants down. He licked Dean's cock through his briefs, hands pulling the briefs down ever so slowly. Dean's breaths were ragged, digging his nails into Sam's shoulders. Sam brought his hands up over Dean's, stroking them. "You want it bad." Hands returning to Dean's ass, tongue teasing Dean's cock. "You're such a slut." 

Dean grabbed a handful of Sam's hair, pushing his cock inside Sam's mouth. "Your slut Sam...only yours." 

Sam sucked him deep, moaning softly, tongue teasing as he sucked. 

Dean wound his fingers in Sam's hair. "Nobody ever took me so deep before..." He slid his cock back in. "So wet...so damn hot. Sammy, I can't hold it...gonna come...." 

"Mmmm..." Sam moved his head back, teeth grazing the thick length. "Fuck my mouth." His mouth returned, working Dean's cock with lips, tongue, and teeth. One hand slid under Dean's balls, caressing them, kneading them. Then two hands grabbed Dean's ass, feeling the cock touch the back of his throat, drawing back, before swallowing again. 

Dean watched as Sam's mouth sucked him in again, still amazed that his baby brother was so good at giving head. Fingers teasing his crack, and Dean thrust deep, ready to let go...and Sam let **him** go, his cock leaving the wetness of Sam's mouth with a _pop_. "Sammy, baby, why'd ya stop?"

"I want you inside me, Dean." Sam got to his feet and backed to the bed, taking off his pants and shirt along the way. He took off his briefs and tossed them to Dean, who inhaled the scent of pure Sam...and tasted the fresh come - Sam had come in his pants while blowing Dean.

Dean stumbled forward, kicking off his pants and underwear, crawling up the bed and settling in Sam's lap. "You came in your pants."

"What of it?"

"Nothin'." Dean brushed Sam's hair from his face. "I think it's kinda hot is all. You're kinda hot."

"Fuck me now?"

"Oh yeah...." Dean lifted Sam's legs atop his shoulders, nipping at Sam's thighs. "Lube."

Sam reached over and tossed him the tube. "C'mon, Dean...."

"Patience, baby." Dean slicked himself. "I'm getting there." He teased Sam, rubbing his dick along the crack, not entering, pulling back each time Sam shifted forward. He slid his cock between Sam's asscheeks, still not moving inside. 

"Dean, please...."

"I love you, Sammy...." And Dean was inside, sliding balls deep, Sam fully open to him. "God, I will never get tired of this." He stilled, rotating his hips before thrusting deeper, listening to Sam, who was moaning. 

"Fuck me...shove it deeper...harder...." Sam was pushing up, so needing more. 

"Okay, baby, I'll give you what you want." Dean slid one finger inside beside his cock and Sam moaned for more. Dean was growing even harder; nobody had ever been like this with him. He had to grasp Sam's legs tighter because Sam was writhing beneath him and he nearly slipped out. "Jesus, Sammy, calm down."

"MORE!" 

"Fuck, okay...." Another finger was added and Dean didn't know how Sam was taking it all. His cock alone had been enough for all his previous bedmates, but Sam...Sam couldn't get enough. He didn't even think and added a third finger, nearly losing it when Sam cried for more. "Sammy, I can't fit anymore in...."

Sam literally snarled at him, slid his legs from Dean's shoulders and shoved forward. Dean slid from his body but only for a moment, because Sam pounced on him, grasping Dean's hardness, held it steady and lowered himself. "Oh God...so fucking good...." And then he began to ride....

Dean was speechless, his mouth opening, no words forthcoming. It was rare for a partner to get in this position with him, most complained he was too big to do it that way. 

But Sam, Sam truly was a slut. He was lifting himself and slamming back down, grunting and moaning and whispering Dean's name again and again, interspersed with "Gimme that cock" and "Fuck me harder" and "DO ME!" His nails were leaving welts on Dean's chest and Dean finally grabbed his hands, interlacing their fingers. "Let me touch you," Sam almost begged, trying to get his hands free. 

Dean released them, just so he could grab Sam's dick. He was jerking Sam hard, hearing a louder moan, glancing up to see Sam's eyes closed, head thrown back, hearing the panted breaths. Dean was thrusting up as hard as he could, fingers twisted his nipples, pulling at them. "Sammy...baby, lover...I'm gonna come...oh fuck, oh God...SAMMY!" And he came inside his brother, hearing what was a literal howl...it took a moment to realize **he** was doing the howling. And while he was coming in Sam, Sam was shooting all over him, trying to catch his breath. 

"Dean...oh Christ...." Sam was swaying and Dean held him by the hips to keep him steady. "I think I found Nirvana...."

Dean just lay there, his dick still buried within the heat. "Love you, Sammy."

"Keep saying it, Dean." Sam smiled and gently lifted himself, falling onto his back. "I'll never get tired of hearing it."

Dean crawled up beside him, grabbing the nearest thing to clean them with, which happened to be one of Sam's tee-shirts. At Sam's look, Dean snickered. "You made the mess, your shirt cleans it up."

"I'll let it go this time," Sam replied, drawing Dean into a kiss. "And I love you too."

"How could you not?"

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Ass."

"Girl."

"That's hitting below the belt, Dean," Sam said drowsily, snuggling into Dean's arms. "It was so good; **you** were so good." 

"So were you, Sammy. Can't believe my cock wasn't enough for you."

Sam sighed. "I could have taken more."

"Sammy, there was no way I could have fit more then three fingers in there with my cock."

"Then buy something." Sam was drifting off, his voice slurring. "Dildo, vibrator...anything...." And then he was breathing deeper, a dead weight in Dean's arms. 

"Kinky bastard," Dean grinned, before he allowed sleep to take him as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took them three days to reach their Grandmother's due to the fact that they'd stopped for a quick job along the way...and taken some back roads to avoid the women they ran into. 

Dean was quite smug, feeling like a rock star with groupies. The women were coming out of nowhere it seemed, tracking him from Minnesota all the way to Albany, where Dean thankfully lost the last that were following them. 

"Thank God they're not demons," Sam remarked. "And if these women could find you...."

"Sammy, I don't think _any_ demon we've ever run into is as dedicated to finding us as those women."

"You mean finding **you**." Sam wasn't happy and it showed. "Dean, those triplets outside Cleveland ripped your shirt!"

"Now them I remember," Dean sighed. "Betty, Barbie and Lucy. That was one Hell of a night."

Sam swallowed hard. "I guess...."

"Stop it, Sammy. I told you, there's only you, nobody else."

"I just...."

Dean reached over and stroked Sam's face. "I didn't love _any_ of them."

"Triplet's Dean. That sounds like a fantasy come true for you."

"It was Sam, at the time. But after you, nobody else could compare."

"And you call me a girl?" Sam snorted. 

"Hey, even the most macho of us manly men can have a chick-flick moment."

Sam leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Love you."

"How could you not? I told you I was irresistible."

Sam's laughter filled the car and Dean had never heard such a beautiful sound in all his life. And if he told Sam, he'd never hear the end of it.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

** 9\. JUST VISITING **

John had his head buried under the hood of his truck when the car came speeding up the road. He heard the screech of tires and didn't even lift his head, knowing there was only one person who drove like that. 

"SAM! I just had new tires put on!" Dean screamed. "They're two hundred bucks a pop! And the car is NOT meant to hit a hundred and thirty!"

"Dean, we got them for free," Sam laughed. "Payment for cleaning the spirit from that garage. And how do you know how fast she was going? The speedometer only goes to one twenty."

"Because you were going faster than it read, I just know it!"

"Hello boys," John smiled. 

"Hey Dad." Dean was nearly crushed by the hug he was pulled into. "Christo," he murmured. 

"What," John laughed. "I have to be possessed to want to hug my son?" Sam was next and grinned at his father. 

"I missed you, Dad," he said, a bit shyly. 

"I missed you too, Sammy."

"Hey Dad," Dean grinned, "I got us a savings account that's gonna net us fifteen percent flat, never changing. And we can..." Dean laughed out loud, "... **legally** draw on the funds they settled on."

"He's doing drugs, isn't he." John said; it wasn't a question.

"Nah, Dad," Sam shrugged, "it's the being alive thing. After the trial, when they gave him back his identity, he went immediately into the First National Bank of Minnesota, Duluth branch, and insisted they make up my embarrassment at being accused of robbing their bank."

"I threatened to sue," Dean said proudly, "and they settled."

"How much?" John asked. 

"An obscene amount," Dean snickered, that smug look plastered on his face. "And some other stuff too."

"Dean," Bobby added as he came out of the house, "to you, that could be anything from Metallica playing a private concert for you, to a million dollars."

"Way cool idea, Bobby," Dean nodded, "I never thought about that. And it's good to see you."

"No, Dean," Sam told him flatly, "the money needs to be siphoned away to different banks in as many places as possible - different names also, in case of emergencies."

"As many places, Sammy?" Dean asked. 

"My God, Sam," John laughed a bit, "you sound like a hunter."

"I had a good teacher," Sam smiled and looked around. "Where's Gran?"

John rolled his eyes. "She went to a Green Day concert in New York."

Sam's eyes moved from his father to Bobby and back again. "Was Mom right?" John cast a strong glare his way and Sam knew his father had neither said or done anything. 

"Was your Mom right about what?" Bobby asked, a bit confused. 

"Sam saw her when he was in jail," Dean said.

"Your old man told me." Bobby smiled at John. "You leave something out, John-boy?"

John threw down his wrench. "You got a big FUCKING mouth, Sammy!" He went inside the house, muttering about son's who don't know when to shut the fuck up.

Sam moved to follow, needing to make immediate amends with his father. The last thing he wanted was his relationship with John to revert to what it was.

Bobby stood in front of him, placing his palm on Sam's chest. "Okay, Sammy, you wanna tell me just exactly what it is your Mom told you?"

"That, uh...uh, that...." Sam didn't know quite how to put it. 

Dean rolled his eyes. "Mom said that Dad needed to get laid more often, 'cause it would help his..." he laughed a little, "...sunny disposition." 

"I'd agree with that," Bobby smiled. "But what does that have to do with me?"

Sam looked at Dean, needing his older brother's permission before he answered Bobby. Once Dean nodded, Sam faced Bobby again. "She said Dad needed to visit you, that you'd have all the answers he needed."

"Boys," Bobby sighed, "your Mama was waaaay off. I don't like men, and neither does your Daddy."

"Bobby," Dean smirked, "you find love in the weirdest places."

"Sure ya do," came the chuckled response. "I once made it with a witch on her altar. She had the nicest and firmest and what the....?" Bobby paused mid-sentence, blinking a few times, staring down at the joint between his fingertips and wondering if Anne Winchester cut her weed with hallucinogens. 

Because there was no way in this life, or ANY other, that Dean Winchester would grab his **BROTHER!** by the hair and pull their lips together and...they were kissing...with tongue...deep tongue by the looks of it. 

And they were moaning and one of Dean's hands had wandered down to Sam's ass and he was pulling Sam's groin to his, rotating his hips. 

Sam had to shove Dean back, catching his breath and grinning. "Down boy." He put up his palms in surrender. "I think that more then convinced him." He turned to face Bobby. "Weirdest places, man."

Dean stood behind him, arms sliding around Sam's waist, edging under his tee-shirt, caressing his sides. Oh yeah, he was glad it was a hot day and Sam wasn't wearing the stupid hoodie. 

"Dean stop!" Sam giggled as Dean found a ticklish spot. "Please?"

"Okay, Sammy, but only because you asked so nicely." Dean leaned back on the trunk of the Impala. "So, Bobby, you convinced?"

"Convinced of what?" Bobby asked, a bit dumbfounded. "That you two were going to burn in the ninth ring of Hell, but after **this** you're going to the tenth or deeper? Or that I'm about to throw my heterosexual existence away for...for...." Bobby didn't know how to finish, so Sam interrupted him.

"You guys have been hunting together on and off for twenty years." Sam nodded in a 'so there' motion. "You've both been willing to sacrifice your lives for one another a dozen times over." 

"If that ain't love...." Dean added. "So what if he's a guy?"

"Easy for you to say, Deano," Bobby smirked. "You've been banging guys since you were sixteen."

Sam frowned. "Did everybody know but me?"

Dean and Bobby both answered, "Yes."

"Your Mom," Bobby studied both of them, "you think she was right?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded shyly, "we do."

Bobby nodded to him, turned toward the house, then back to them. "He's got a mean right hook."

"He's not gonna hit ya, Bobby," Dean said. "He cares about you, he's just too scared to admit it."

"Says you," Bobby muttered half under his breath. 

"Go for it," Sam was smiling now. 

"If he hits me, I'm gonna whip you two bloody."

As Bobby went inside, Sam began to chew on his lower lip. "Dean, what if we're wrong about this? What if Mom was wrong?"

Dean pulled Sam close, reversing their positions so Sam was leaning against the trunk. "Then we drive Bobby to the nearest hospital." He urged Sam up and onto his back, undoing the button of Sam's pants. "But I don't think it's going to become violent." The zipper came down and Dean's hand slid inside, fondling Sam's dick. "Is this big, thick cock for me?" He shifted his hands under Sam's ass, "Lift up, Sammy," and when Sam obeyed on autopilot, Dean slid the pants down, freeing Sam's dick, swollen and stiff. "I wanna suck you, Sam. I haven't been down on you in...."

"Since I was driving three hours ago?" Sam sat up as best he could and smiled down at his brother, stroking his hair. "And are you sure this is a wise idea, what with Dad and Bobby...."

"Sam, Bobby's been in there a few minutes and if Dad had hit him, we'd know already." He licked his lips. "So just lay back, shut **your** mouth, let me open **mine** and have a bit of fun." Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's long legs, yanking him up and forward, so Sam's dick was level with his face. "I **so** love sucking your dick, Sammy." He was just about to take Sam's dick into his mouth when there was a loud crash from inside the house. Dean lifted his head, while Sam slid off the trunk, pulling up his pants. 

"We were wrong!" Sam said, heading to the house, Dean following. 

They were just about to open the door, and break up a fight, when they heard Bobby shout out, "FUCK YEAH, JOHNNY!" immediately followed by John's scream of, "OHMYFUCKINGGOD!" This was followed up by moans and grunts and filth that had Sam flushed pink and backing away from the door, mumbling what Dean clearly understood to be Latin. 

"An exorcism ritual, Sammy?" Dean burst into a giggle fit.

"I'm gonna need therapy, Dean." Sam whimpered, his face scrunching up like a three year old. His mouth dropped open at his father's shouted, "SUCK ME!" and Sam looked like a wounded puppy. "Dean, Dad's having sex with Bobby."

"So he is, Sam." Dean leaned in and nuzzled Sam's neck. "And I'd like to have sex with you." 

Sam pushed him away. "I can't."

"Whaddya mean, you **can't**?"

"How can I...when Dad is...with Bobby...in the same house?"

Dean took Sam by the hand and smiled. "We could take a walk to the lake. It's kinda romantic."

Sam allowed himself to be led away. "Since when are you romantic?"

"Since now." Dean didn't wait until they made it to the lake. Once they were deeper in the woods, he stopped, faced Sam, shoved him against a tree and kissed him hard. "I need to taste you, Sammy." He dropped to his knees and quickly undid Sam's pants. "You have the prettiest cock...." Dean didn't waste anytime. He took Sam deep in one move, hands groping Sam's ass, nails digging in. 

"GOD DEAN!"

Dean pulled back, a smirk on his face. "I'd have settled for master, but God will do just fine." He sucked some more then turned Sam around. "Gonna have me some of that fine ass." He kissed the center, nipping the cheeks, listening to Sam's soft moans. "You love this, don't you, my slut."

"Slut?" Sam squeaked out. 

"My slut, my whore, only mine." Dean's tongue swiped the crack, making Sam shudder. "Beg me, baby. Beg me to suck you and fuck you and give you pleasure. Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it." Dean pulled back and Sam turned around, dropping to his knees in front of Dean. "What do you want, Sammy?"

"Jerk off for me, Dean." Sam gave him a sly smile. "Take your fist, wrap it around your dick, and bring yourself off."

"Is that all?" Dean undid his pants, doing as he was told. "I'm surprised, Sam. I would have thought you had more imagination then that." 

"Ah, Dean," Sam palmed his face, "I want you to talk to me while you're doing it, close your eyes and tell me what you see."

Dean's mouth slowly curved into a lazy smile. "If that's what you want, baby...." Dean ran his fingers along the thickened length and closed his eyes. "It's me...and you." He brought his other hand to his balls. "I come into the motel room and you're sitting at the desk, at your laptop, doing research as usual." He took his cock in his fist. "You look up and smile, that smile you get when you want something, like when you wanted that Game Boy and Dad wouldn't buy it for you." Dean began to stroke himself slowly. "I walk towards you and you stand, ordering me to strip and lay down on the bed."

Sam took his own dick in hand. "You refuse me at first, tell me you don't take orders, but I pull my shirt off, wetting two fingers and playing with a nipple." He did just that with his other hand, a soft sigh coming from his lips. "I do the same to the other, and you're starting to sweat, debating whether or not to follow my orders." 

"I take off my jacket and then my shirt, but it's still not enough for you." Dean moved his left hand to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, while his right grasped his cock harder. "You stop what you're doing and push me onto the bed, taking my hands in yours and pushing them up and over my head." Dean's left hand now moved to his ass, teasing himself, one finger slowly entering. "You're kissing me, tongue-fucking my mouth, that sinful tongue of yours sucking on mine. I'm growing fucking dizzy, and then you...."

"I slip your wrists into the ropes tied to the headboard and you don't realize it until you try to touch me again." Sam was jerking himself harder, thumb wiping across the head on each upstroke, gathering precome and sucking on it. "I slide down your body, undoing your pants, taking them off." Sam's fingers were teasing a nipple again and another sigh escaped his lips. 

Dean now had two fingers inside himself and he brushed his prostate. "Your mouth is on my boxers, teasing my cock, and I beg you to take them off, 'cause I want those lips around me, sucking me." Dean began to fuck himself on his fingers, his hand stroking faster. "I want that tongue on me, licking me up and down...."

"But I continue to tease you," Sam whispered, "my fingers caressing up and down your thighs." He gripped his cock tighter, his own touch bordering on pain. "And it becomes too much, and I'm so hard, and my cock is leaking. I'm breaking now, ready to give you anything you want...lie, cheat, steal...fuck, I'd even kill for you."

"And I look into your eyes..." Dean had three fingers inside himself now, bringing his other hand to his mouth and spitting on it before returning it to his cock. "...and they're almost black, and you're so fucking hot for me...."

Sam opened his eyes, seeing what Dean was doing. "Dean, you have absolutely no idea." He crawled forward, his hot breath on Dean's face. "I'm beyond hot, I'm steaming and you're the only one who can cool me off." 

Dean opened his eyes, staring into Sam's. "God, Sammy...." He pulled Sam atop him, kicking off his pants. "Fuck me, shove that cock inside me and claim me!"

"Jesus, Dean...." Sam spit on his palm and rubbed his spit over his dick. "Oh yeah, gonna make you mine, all mine...." Sam didn't waste any time, shoving himself balls deep, undulating his hips, screwing deeper. "So tight...ahh...fuck, Dean...not gonna last...." Sam threw his head back. "OH YEAH!" And he was coming and Dean was thrusting up, moaning and begging, and then he was coming, all over them, panting, losing his breath with his orgasm. 

"Dean...oh my God...ohhh...."

"Sammy, that was amazing, just like you."

"I love you, Dean."

"Yeah, me too."

They lay there for what seemed like forever, before finally separating. 

Dean grabbed Sam's shirt and cleaned himself, smirking at his brother. 

"Why must you use my shirt to clean up?" Sam tried to sound angry, he really did, but of course was unable to. 

"I'm quicker," Dean grinned.

"Not that quick." Sam grabbed Dean's and used it to wipe himself. 

Pants were pulled up and the two picked up their come-stained shirts. 

Dean's cell rang and Sam rolled his eyes. Dean checked out the caller ID and smirked. 

"Don't you dare answer it, Dean."

"Got no choice, Sammy." He opened his phone. "Hey, Gran, how was the concert?" Pause. "Yep, we're here and so are Dad and...." Dean pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment, until the shouting died down. "Yes, Gran, they did." Pause. "They do love each other, it's real, I swear, not just a fling." Dean gave Sam a soft smile. "And so do me and Sam." 

Sam's eyes grew wide, his breath hitched and his cheeks turned crimson.

"Really? You do? Yeah, we love you too. You wanna talk to Sammy?" Dean tossed him the phone.

"Hey, Gran, how's it goin'?" Sam nodded. "I...I've always felt this way, I was just too afraid to do anything." Pause. "Yeah? I am? Nah, I don't mind. There was a time I'd have been insulted, but not now." Sam was grinning. "Yeah, Dad does. Says it's okay with him as long as we love each other." Pause. "I don't know how long, but if we miss seeing you, we'll be back. Yeah, Gran, love you too." Sam hung up. "She says that me and Dad are both slow on the uptake and we're so much alike it's scary. **And** she's happy we found each other. Said she's known how we felt for years and if we didn't do anything about it, she was gonna smash our heads together to knock some sense into them."

They headed back to the house with their arms around each other's waists, Sam's head laying on Dean's shoulder as they walked. 

They were happy...and content...and grinning. They both heard a car driving off and assumed the other two were taking a drive. 

When they came into view of the house, they caught sight of Bobby outside, unconscious, his face a mass of blood. 

"BOBBY!" They both screamed, kneeling beside him. Carrying him inside, they searched for John, but their father was nowhere to be found. 

"Dean, where's Dad?"

"I don't know, Sammy. Maybe when Bobby comes to, he can tell us." Dean called 911 and then heard Bobby groaning.

"He took John." Bobby winced from the pain in his ribs. "He's gonna hurt him real bad for what was done to him...."

"Who?"

"Ewing," Bobby gasped, "Michael Ewing...." He passed out again.

Dean made a quick phone call to Diana Ballard, who, after making a few phone calls of her own, told him that Michael Ewing had escaped from prison two days before. 

"Christ, Dean, God knows what he'll do to Dad."

"Sam, you stay with Bobby. I'm going to...."

"No, if we go...."

"One of us has to ride with Bobby to the hospital," Dean said firmly.

"I'll go with him, you follow. After, Dean, we search for Dad together and that's final."

"Okay, Sam, you win."

Once the ambulance arrived, they followed it to the hospital. Being the boys had some money, they paid up front and insisted the best doctors come examine their Godfather. Paperwork needed to be filled out and Dean convinced Sam to do it, while he went to get them some coffee. 

After ten minutes the hairs on the back of Sam's neck raised and he jumped from his chair and ran out to the parking lot. 

The Impala was gone.

Cursing himself for his stupidity, Sam ensured that Bobby was taken care of, then headed back to their Gran's, hitching a ride with a couple of cops after he gave his statement. The moment they left, he hotwired his father's truck and took off, heading West. Instinct told him that was the direction Dean had gone...and the same direction Michael Ewing had taken their father.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

** 10\. I CAN HANDLE THINGS...NOT **

John came to in a car, only to find his arms had been bound, and his head felt like it was going to split in two.

"Well, hell, welcome back, Mister Winchester, sir." Ewing turned to John with a grin on his face. "I've been waiting for this for quite some time."

"Why aren't you in jail?" John asked nonchalantly. 

"I broke out just to come visit you."

"Oh, joy of joys," John mocked, sighing aloud. "Did you bring me a present?"

"Why yes, yes I did." Ewing turned, aiming his gun at John. 

John instinctively moved back and the door opened. He tumbled out onto the ground, a bit dazed, but quickly regained his momentum, got to his feet and began to run as best he could. 

Michael stopped and made a quick U-turn, but it was too late - John was already in a Denny's parking lot, with people around him now. He decided to head back towards the house in the hopes of getting one or both of the boys.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Dean's cell went off and he didn't recognize the number, so he ignored it. When it rang again, he picked it up, surprised to hear his Father's voice on the other end. Doubling back, he found John waiting for him in the parking lot. 

"Dad? Bobby said Ewing...."

"He did, Dean, but you know me. I deal with Succubi, so I can sure as hell deal with a human piece of shit." 

Dean hit the gas. "You need a change of clothes. You smell."

"Fuck you too, son," John allowed himself a small laugh. "Where's Sam?"

"He's at the hospital with Bobby, who's going to live."

"Then we go there first." John took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I need to see him, make sure he's okay."

"Dad, how'd Ewing catch you off guard?"

This time John's laugh was genuine. "Bobby decided on a game of football and we lasted one tackle before I...."

"You can stop there," Dean interrupted with a smile. "Yep, that _would_ catch you off your guard. Uh, can I ask you one more question?" At John's nod, Dean added, "If you were...you know...then why are _your_ clothes still on?"

"'Cause I was going down on him." John clearly smirked. "And for a novice, I think I did damn fucking good."

"Sorry I asked."

"No you're not, you perv." 

"Takes one," Dean sing-songed. "Dad...about me and Sam....

"Dean, I don't pretend to understand what's happened between the two of you." John placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. "But I know you love him, son, and you'll always watch out for him. I couldn't ask for a better partner for my baby."

"Your baby? If Sam were to hear you call him that...."

"Tell him Dean and suffer."

"I won't say a word." Dean stifled a giggle. "I wouldn't want to ruin your hard ass rep." They were silent for the rest of the ride, but before they entered the hospital, Dean had to clear up a few things. "Dad, Sammy's the first...lover...I've ever had that I was friends with, that I could talk to. When he left for school, part of me died inside."

"I know, Dean," John said honestly. "And because I was pissed at Sam's leaving, I climbed into a bottle again and totally ignored you when you truly needed me. And for that I apologize."

"Dad," Dean laughed, "you do realize we just had a chick-flick moment." 

"How about we call it a Father/Son moment." John placed his hand on Dean's shoulder and gave him a genuine, from-the-heart. smile. "Our first since I told you where babies came from."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam had driven almost ten miles, sure he'd come across Dean by then. He just **knew** he was going in the right direction. When there was still no sign of the Impala, he stopped the truck and took out his cell, **finally** deciding to call his brother. He should have done it sooner, but he didn't want Dean to know he was following. Unfortunately, he hadn't charged his phone and the battery was dead. Sighing to himself, Sam got back in the truck, started the engine, drove about thirty feet...and the car stalled. He tried to get the engine to turn over, but it was dead. Glancing at the dashboard, he saw the gas tank was empty. He'd been in a hurry and hadn't even bothered to look. "Oh yeah," Sam half-laughed, "they're never going to let you live this down, Sammy. You're batting a thousand." He began to walk back, sticking his thumb out, hopeful that he'd see a car soon and he could hitch a ride. "Hunter's are supposed to be prepared." He began to talk to himself as he walked to the gas station he had passed, about four miles back. "You're about as well-prepared as Elmer Fudd." 

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Bobby was going to be fine, and with the exception of a mild concussion, the injuries were superficial. They asked where Sam was and the doctor informed them that Sam had left a few minutes after Dean, the police giving him a ride home. 

"Tell Bobby we're going home and we'll be back in the morning."

Something about Dean's tone bothered John. It was almost worried, with the underlying sound of panic. Oh yeah, he knew his son's all right. He disappeared down the hall, having a few words with Bobby, and quickly returned. "A private room, Dean?"

"Used some of the reward money," Dean shrugged. "Let's go."

John followed Dean to the Impala. "I'll drive."

"Uh-uh, Dad." Dean got in and opened the passenger side door. "You get in."

John didn't even get the chance to close his door before Dean hit the gas. "What are you afraid of, Dean? I see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice."

"Ewing's out there and if he gets his hands on Sammy...." Dean slammed his hands on the steering wheel. "He wanted to...he wanted Sam." Dean floored it. "Nobody touches Sam but me."

John got the meaning and grew angry. If Michael Ewing laid one hand on his baby boy, he'd die the slowest and most painful death imaginable.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Arriving at the house, they saw that John's truck was gone. 

"He went after me," Dean said. 

"How would he know where you went?" John asked. 

"Psychic boy? He probably read the tea leaves or something. Hell, the way things are going, he probably read my mind." At John's look, Dean shook his head. "Just a figure of speech, Dad." His cell rang and he picked it up, listening for a few minutes. "Stay where you are, Sammy."

_"Dean, it's only about six miles back to Gran's. I can walk it."_

"Sam, I found Dad and he's okay, but...."

_"You didn't find Ewing,"_ Sam finished for him.

"We'll be there in about ten minutes. Stay inside the gas station, Sam."

_"I'm not a child, Dean!"_ Sam sputtered. _"I can take care of myself."_

"DAMMIT SAM! DO AS I SAY!" Dean felt John's hand on his shoulder, motioning him to give the phone over. Dean wasn't sure if it was a good idea, but did it anyway.

"Sam," John said softly, "do Daddy a tiny favor and stay in the fucking gas station until we get there?" He paused. "Please?"

_"Okay, but only because I promised Bobby I'd be nice,"_ Sam replied, just as quietly. _"And tell Dean not to be so bossy."_

"See you in a few." John hung up the phone and smirked. "Stop being so bossy and maybe he'll listen once in a while."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam was pacing outside the gas station when he spotted the Impala. What he didn't pay attention to was the car approaching from the other side. Hearing the screech of tires he turned and jumped out of the way as Ewing barreled right towards him. "Oh yeah, Sammy, you're batting ten thousand!" 

Ewing hit a dumpster and got out of the car, just as John and Dean pulled up. He took off after Sam, who had headed into a wooded area. 

Now on a normal day, Sam was very much aware of his surroundings, but of course today was **not** a normal day. He tripped over a tree stump, landed on his face, and although he got to his feet quickly, it was enough time for Ewing to catch up with him. Sam dropped as the bullet grazed his leg, rolling onto his back and sitting up. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I feel like it." Ewing aimed at Sam, walking forward as Sam scooted backwards. "Say good-bye, Sammy." He pulled the trigger...and the gun jammed. "Damn German piece of shit!" Ewing tossed the gun aside and pulled a knife out. "Ya can't go wrong with a blade."

"Get away from my son." 

Ewing heard the sound of the gun cocking and lunged forward, intending to kill Sam no matter what. 

John pulled the trigger.

"DAD NO!" Sam screamed, forcing his Father's arm up with a thought, the bullet going into the night air.

Dean had circled around, intending to get behind Ewing, but Ewing saw him and threw the knife at Dean. It headed right for Dean's chest, but turned and imbedded into a tree. 

Ewing grew totally enraged and went for Dean, but instead found himself pinned to a tree, gasping for air.

"Sam...." John started, a bit frightened by the look in Sam's eyes. 

"You hurt my family," Sam was holding him in place, "and you deserve to die."

"Sammy, stop," Dean told him, placing his hand on Sam's arm. 

"Be thankful I'm not a killer," Sam glared at Ewing with hatred. "If you come near me or mine again, you'll wish you died today." Sam dropped him to the ground. 

"Sam?" Dean knelt beside his brother. "You okay?"

"Other than being wounded, I'm fine." He tilted his head at Dean. "Did you think I would kill him?"

"On any other day, no," Dean answered, "but today...."

"I so wanted to, but that makes me no better then he is. We take him back to jail." Sam shrugged. "It's not like any of _us_ have outstanding warrants." His eyes moved from John to Dean and back again. "Do we?"

"Nope," Dean muttered, bending over Ewing. He lifted Ewing's upper body by his shirt and punched him twice in the face, knocking him cold. "Now I feel better." He helped Sam to his feet.

"'If you ever come near me or mine again, you'll wish you died today'?" John actually giggled. "Where the fuck did you come up with _that_ line?"

"I heard it in a movie. I think it may have been a bad Steven Seagal flick that Dean dragged me to." Sam gave his Father a wan smile. "I couldn't let you kill him, Dad, no matter what. He wasn't a demon and that would have made it murder."

"He was evil, Sam," John clarified, though in truth, he was trying to convince himself that the cold-blooded murder of a human being, no matter how bad the person, was rational. He'd never killed anything that wasn't demonic in some way.

"Dad...." Sam rested a hand on John's shoulder, meeting his father's eyes, "I believe in the system. I have to."

"The system has **always** fucked us over," John stated as fact.

"Really?" Sam laughed, but it wasn't a truly happy sound. "It gave Dean back his life. And in doing that, it gave **all** of us a second chance." He leaned against the car. "I thought I'd go back to school but...I'll never be a lawyer, I know that now. I was born a hunter and you can't change destiny. But I will always believe in the justice system, that in the end, sometimes at least, good will triumph over evil."

"Good will triumph...." Dean snickered. "Where'd ya get that one, Sammy?"

"Some late night Chinese kung-fu movie," Sam smirked, and opened the car door...with a thought. 

"Would you stop doing that?!" Dean snapped, running his palm over the Impala's hood. "She doesn't like it when you do supernatural shit to her." Dean opened the trunk and he and John dumped Ewing in there. Ewing started to rouse, but Dean slammed the trunk on his head. "So there!"

Dean and John then got into an argument over who was going to drive.

"Uh, Dad....?" Sam started.

"Just a minute, Sam," John answered, and returned to his fight with Dean.

"Dean?"

"Hold your horses, Sammy." 

"BLEEDING HERE!"

"It's just a flesh wound, Sam," Dean told him. "Geez, you'd think he hit a major artery or somethin'."

"But it hurts," Sam whined. 

"Dad, he's making the puppy-dog eyes."

"And the pout," John sighed and gave up. "Fine, you drive. I can't take it."

Dean helped Sam into the back seat, but ended up tossing the keys to John. "I think the kid here needs somebody to hold his hand." He sat in the back, laying Sam's head in his lap. "Don't ya, Sammy."

"Can I have some ice cream after I get stitched up?"

"You can have anything you want, Sam." John smiled as he started the engine. "Your brother is buying."

Dean leaned down and whispered, "Actually, Dad is." He pulled something out of his jacket. "I lifted his wallet."

"Love you, Dean."

"How can you help yourself?" Dean snickered, stealing a quick kiss. "Rest, baby. We'll have you patched up and eating a banana split in no time at all."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

They arrived at the hospital and Dean pretty much dragged Sam out of the car. 

Sam's attitude had changed the closer they got. "Uh, you can patch me up, Dean. Yeah, you and Dad. I don't need to go in there."

"Sammy," Dean smiled, "I promise to take you for ice cream later if you're a good boy and don't punch out the doctor."

"Oh God," John chuckled, "I thought he got over his fear of hospitals."

Dean laughed himself. "Dad, it happens every time we've been. I think they have signs up that say _Tranquilize this man if he needs treatment_."

"They're gonna give me a shot." Sam turned as they got to the entrance. "I don't want one."

"Sam, how come you never get like this when **I** give you pain killers?" John asked. "Or Dean?"

"And you're calm enough when I'm in there," Dean added.

Sam looked at John. "Because it's you or Dean." Then to Dean. "And because I'm not the patient."

Dean placed his arm under Sam's. "C'mon, Sammy, let's get this over with."

"But I don't want to." Sam pouted again. "Please don't make me, Dean."

Dean nearly caved, but saw Sam wince as he put his weight on his leg. "No. Now get in there like a big boy or you don't get your ice cream."

"You're a meanie," Sam frowned. 

"Yeah, but I'm the meanie who loves you." Dean gave him a quick kiss.

"I'll take care of the trash," John told them, nodding to the trunk.

"Dad...." Sam started.

"Gee whiz, Sammy, you take all the fun out of hunting." He gave Sam a smile. "You know, I think I should park the car and go check on Bobby. Maybe spend some time with him."

"I think that's a good idea," Dean agreed, helping Sam inside.

John did park, but instead of going in, he opened the trunk, seeing a wide awake Michael Ewing. He bound his hands and feet and literally growled at him. "My Sam is a good boy, with a conscience. I however, don't have much of one." He grabbed Ewing by the hair. "My son couldn't do you real harm, and I think you know that." 

"No, John, he couldn't." Ewing laughed out loud. 

"I'm not my son...either one of my sons." John's eyes narrowed. "If you so much as _think_ about going after my boys again, I will feed you to a demon. And if there isn't one available, I will cut out your body parts one by one." He pushed Ewing onto his back. "And I'll make damn sure you stay alive until I rip your heart from your chest." He slammed the trunk shut and headed inside. No, he wasn't his sons; he'd seen more horror than even **they** could imagine. And if Ewing threatened his family again, he would do exactly what he said, without a second thought.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam waited for a doctor, watching as Dean fought with the snack machine. He had become convinced years ago that vending machines feared his older brother, cowered in his presence, and gave up whatever treats Dean desired, like now. 

For his lone dollar, Dean got five candy bars and a pack of gum. He grinned at Sam, tossed him a Hershey bar and attempted to follow as Sam was taken to an examining room. Refused entrance, he made a face at Sam. The last time Sam had been in an emergency room, he'd huffed like a two year old when he got a shot and afterwards, he gave the attending physician a black eye.

"I'll behave, Dean. I promise."

Dean took a deep breath and reluctantly left.

"Well," John smiled at Dean, "how's the boy wonder?"

"I'm not sure, Dad. The doctor made me leave."

"Let's go see Bobby, tell him we took care of things, and go for a cup of coffee."

"Nope. After we visit, I'm going to get Sam. Knowing him, he'll be complaining about the stitches, so I figure some pie and ice cream will make him a happy camper." 

Bobby was under sedation, but they did sit with him. And even though he was sleeping, they told him all that had transpired. 

John opted to stay with his lover for a few minutes more, while Dean went to get Sam. He went downstairs to the exam room where Sam had been, seeing an empty bed. 

"Can I help you, sir?" A nurse asked him.

"Uh, my brother," Dean smiled, "he was in here a little while ago...."

"Gunshot?"

"Yeah."

"I am sorry, sir, but he didn't make it."

"What? But it wasn't..." Dean's breath hitched, "...it wasn't that bad." 

She patted Dean on the shoulder. "It may not have seemed that bad, but...."

Dean put his palm up. "I get it. Can you tell me where the nearest bar is?" He walked outside in a daze. "Oh Sammy, I never even got a chance to say good-bye." 

Now what Dean didn't know, because he didn't ask, was that there had been a gang-related incident and Sam had been moved from the exam room to make way for a serious gunshot wound. 

A short time later, John wandered down and looked for Sam as well, getting the same information. But, unlike Dean, John asked a few questions, finding out where Sam was. He wondered why Dean had sought out a bar without them, but figured once he found his older son, he would get an answer.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"You promised me you were going to quit smoking," a soft voice chuckled from beside Dean, startling him. 

"Why are you here?" Dean blurted without thinking. "Oh crap, you can't cross over, can you?" He poured another shot, downed it quickly, stubbed out the cigarette and lit another. "I can help. I'll...if there's a problem because of what we've done in this life, I'll salt and burn you. That'll get you straight to the light. I don't believe in it, but I know you do, so...."

"Huh?" Sam was obviously confused and it showed. "Why would you...."

John joined them, hearing the conversation and fighting a laugh. On the way out, he'd talked to the nurse again and found out what had happened. "Dean, Sam's not...."

Dean ignored him and went for another shot. "Sammy, I love you."

"I know, Dean."

Dean picked up the bottle and the shot glass and slid into a booth, pouring what was shot number four.

"Dad? Why is he doing this?"

"He thinks you're dead." John did laugh. "The nurse told him you were." He recounted what she had told him. 

"Dean thinks I'm dead?" Sam began to giggle, and his giggles quickly bloomed into full-fledged laughter. "Oh, this is **too** good an opportunity to pass up."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to have a little fun." Sam sat down opposite Dean. "Hi."

"Now **I'm** seein' dead people." Dean groaned and buried his face in his hands. 

"Dean, remember Sally Westlake from my senior year, when we lived in Tucson?"

"Sammy, I slept with her even though you were dating her. I told her you had Herpes so she wouldn't go out with you anymore."

"I knew that," Sam shrugged. "You told Randy Stark I had mono, too. But what about Lisa Cole? In Taos? One day she liked me, the next...."

"I told her you were afraid of clowns," Dean squeaked. "And when you wanted to play baseball in Wichita, I told the coach we were Jehovah's Witnesses and you couldn't do sports." Dean did shot number five. "I'm sorry."

Despite the situation, Sam wanted to slug his brother. "I **really** wanted to play baseball."

"Yeah, but Sam, if you had joined the team, you would have had practice three nights a week and games on weekends. You would have been busy **all** the time and I would have had nobody to hang out with."

"You wanted...." Sam was thinking. "Basketball in Portland?" Dean nodded. "Soccer in Tampa?" Another nod. "Because you wanted to hang out with me?"

"Uh-huh." Dean was getting mushy and shot number six nearly missed the glass. It was quickly swallowed. "I know I used to pick on you and tell you to get a life, b-b-but...oh God, Sammy, you're my best friend." His eyes welled with tears and he wiped them away. "What am I gonna do without you?"

"I think that's enough, Sam," John warned him.

Sam nodded in agreement. "Dean, I'm not dead."

"I know." Dean gave up trying to pour number seven and swigged straight from the bottle. "You're...hovering between this world and the next."

Sam grabbed the bottle. "No, I'm **not** dead."

"But the nurse said...."

"Dean," John started, fighting his own laugh again, "you didn't ask the nurse the right questions." He told Dean what she had said. "It wasn't Sam."

"Sam's not dead?" John nodded to him. "You're not dead?" A nod from Sam. "Oh, Sammy...." Dean leaned all the way over the table, framed Sam's face in his palms and kissed him hard. "I'm so happy." Dean started to giggle. "Sammy, don't die on me again, 'kay?"

"I'll do my best, Dean."

"Get him out to the car, Sam. I'll settle the bill."

"What about Ewing?"

"I'll take you boys home first, then head to the police. And yes, Mister boy scout, sir," John sighed, "I promise he'll arrive in one piece." By the time he came out, Dean was sitting in the front, grinning like a loon, while Sam just shrugged at his Father from the back. 

"And what about your truck, Dad?"

"I forgot about that. We get some gas, and I'll follow you back **then** go to the police."

Sam smiled softly. "That's okay. I'll take Dean back in your truck."

"I don't like the truck," Dean whined from the back seat. "And I don't like you driving my car, Dad."

"Would you prefer to walk?"

"Uh...point taken. You drive."

They got the gas and John nodded to Sam before he took off. "Straight to the cops, I swear."

"Bring my car back in one piece Dad." Dean scowled. 

"Or what?" John smirked. 

"I'll cry."

"Done deal."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam got out of the truck and walked toward the house, noticing Dean wasn't beside him. He glanced back and did a double take. 

Dean began to strip on his way to the front door, while Sam gawked at him...and the trail of clothing. 

"What's the matter, Sam?"

"Nothing."

It didn't escape Dean's notice that Sam's voice had gone up a pitch or three. He made it to the porch and dropped to his knees. "Wanna suck me off?" Dean took his cock in hand and met Sam's eyes. "I'm hard just for you." He crawled over to Sam, hands on Sam's hips. "Or maybe you'd like it if I sucked you." Dean unlaced Sam's sneakers so Sam could step out of them. He undid Sam's pants, pulling them down along with his underwear, Sam standing half naked before him, his cock stiff and leaking. He swirled his tongue around the very tip, suckling on the head, tongue dipping into the slit. "Gonna suck you until you forget your name, then fuck you so hard you'll be begging for mercy." Dean took Sam's dick halfway and let it slip from his mouth. "Should I do that?" He placed a kiss to the tip, glanced up, met Sam's eyes and took Sam's dick all the way. 

"Christ, Dean." Sam moaned and wound his fingers in Dean's hair. "Nobody ever took me so deep before." He slid his cock back in. "So wet...so damn hot. Dean, I can't hold it...gonna come...." 

"Mmm...." Dean moved his head back, teeth grazing the thick length. "Fuck my mouth." His mouth returned, working Sam's cock with lips, tongue, and teeth. One hand slid under Sam's balls, caressing them, kneading them. Then two hands grabbed Sam's ass, feeling the cock touch the back of his throat, drawing back, before swallowing again. 

Sam watched as Dean's mouth sucked him in again, still amazed that his hard-ass brother loved to give head, almost reveling in it. He had given Sam the finest blow-jobs he'd ever experienced. Fingers teasing his crack and Sam moaned, thrusting deep, finally letting go. This orgasm hit him as the very first one he'd shared with Dean, and the second, and the third...as they all had, like a tidal wave hitting land, a rush beyond everything. Sam lost focus as he spilled in Dean's mouth, bracing his hands on Dean's shoulders to avoid falling to his knees. "OH YES!" The scream came before he could stop it, losing himself in his release. 

Dean heard the words, swallowing Sam's seed, feeding as a starving man granted his last meal. He was wrapped up in his own private ecstasy. He drank until Sam had nothing left, until his brother was literally dropping to his knees. Licking his lips, he leaned in and whispered, "Love you, Sammy." He licked Sam's lips, those lips parting for him, tongue sliding in, sharing the taste. Dean stood, helping Sam up and opening the door. 

They walked in and headed directly for the bedroom. Sam began to rummage through his suitcase, finally finding lube, but by the time he turned back, Dean had passed out. "Sleep it off, Dean." Sam covered him and went outside, gathering their clothing, put on his pants and stayed outside. It was a clear night and he made use of the old telescope, having a good time checking out the constellations. About an hour later the Impala drove up. Sam was surprised that Bobby was with John. 

"Stupid, stubborn son-of-a-bitch." John was almost carrying Bobby to the house. 

"What happened, Dad?" Sam asked, going to Bobby's other side and helping his Father.

"And I thought **you** were bad in hospitals?" John rolled his eyes. "I get back there and this idiot has torn out his IV and insisting he be allowed to leave."

" _Oops, I did it again, I played with your heart, got lost in the game...._ " 

Sam's mouth dropped open. "Is he singing....?"

Bobby continued his off key warbling, " _Oops, you think I'm in love, that I'm sent from above, I'm not that innocent...._ "

"Not that innocent is right." John looked ready to pull his hair out. "I don't know what that song is, but he's been singing the same lyrics the entire ride." 

They got Bobby to the bed and he lay down, but reached out, wrapped his arms around John's neck and pulled John atop him. **And** began to sing again. " _I’m a slave for you, I cannot hold it, I cannot control it._ "

"Those lyrics are even worse!" John groaned and tried to get loose, but Bobby just held tighter. 

"I guess he's doped up, huh, Dad."

" _I’m a slave for you, I can’t deny it, I’m not trying to hide it...._ "

"Just a little, Sam." John resolved himself to laying there and relaxed, managing to roll to the side. "And can you tell me what that drivel is?"

Sam backed toward the door. "Britney Spears." He laughed even harder. "Bobby likes Britney Spears!" He walked out before John could make any remarks. 

John smiled at his lover. "You couldn't sing anything classic, could you?"

Bobby chewed on his lower lip. " _Dear Mister Fantasy play us a tune, something to make us all happy...._ " He brushed his lips over John's. " _Do anything, take us out of this gloom, sing a song, play guitar, make it snappy...._ " He groped John's crotch. " _You are the one who can make us all laugh...._ "

John couldn't take anymore and kissed him to shut him up.

Sam went back to his room and stripped down, snuggling into Dean's arms. 

"Hey." Dean cracked an eye open. "Why are you smiling like a nut?"

"Bobby was singing Britney Spears."

"We'll tease him about it tomorrow." Dean tilted Sam's head up and kissed him. "G'night, Sammy, baby."

"Goodnight to you too, snookums. And you owe me a banana split."

Dean giggled to himself as he drifted back to sleep, Sam following shortly after.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

** 11\. UNTIL NEXT TIME WE MEET **

Dean cracked an eye open, quickly closing it at the morning sun streaming in through the window. He noticed it was nearly noon and realized they must have been exhausted to have slept so late. Propping his head in his palm, he stared down at Sam's face, brushing the hair from Sam's brow. "So beautiful." Dean leaned down for a kiss, brushing his lips over Sam's. "Morning, baby."

Sam stretched and wrapped his arms around Dean. "Morning to you too, lover." Sam pulled away, getting out of bed. His leg didn't hurt very much anymore and the swelling was down.

"Is the honeymoon over already?" Dean forced himself up. "No morning sex?"

"I smell, so do you, and I have to pee." Sam walked into the bathroom and shut the door. He came out a few minutes later. motioned Dean in, and grabbed two towels. 

Dean opened the bathroom door and pulled Sam to him, attempting to steal a kiss, but Sam avoided him, ducking his head. "How about a shower?" Sam nodded and Dean backed him toward the stall. They stood there, Sam watching as Dean turned on the water...he didn't notice the water was turned to cold. 

Sam jumped when the water hit his back, his arms moving around Dean, as if to get protection. "What are you doing?!" 

"I thought you liked cold showers," Dean smiled, reaching over to warm the water. Sam was tense in his arms, and Dean began to rub his back. "Let me warm you up." Dean kissed him hard, pushing him under the stream of now-warm water. He pulled them out, breaking the kiss. "Better now?" Sam shrugged, and Dean kissed him again, picking up a cloth, moving it in slow, circular motions over Sam's back. Sam arched his body, their cocks touching and Dean looked down, seeing both harden at the other's touch. Ignoring their wants for the moment, Dean continued to wash his brother, the cloth moving down Sam's back, to his ass. He was very methodical as he cleaned the cheeks, easing the cloth inside briefly, hearing and feeling Sam moaning into his mouth. Dean broke the kiss, one arm wrapping around Sam's waist, holding him a few inches away. He stroked the cloth along Sam's arms, along his neck and down his chest, brushing over the nipples. Sam arched his body again and Dean moved the cloth further down, stepping back. He knelt before Sam, slowly washing his legs, down to his toes, back up again, ignoring the hard cock right before his eyes. He moved the cloth along Sam's inner thighs, briefly touching the balls and he felt Sam lose his balance. 

Dean stood, getting a better hold of Sam, and pushed them both under the water, making love to Sam's mouth again. He turned them so Sam's back was against the far wall. Dean looked up, and Sam saw the towel bar above them. "Hold on to that." Sam's hands moved up, grasping the bar. Dean knelt before him again, his lips moving up Sam's legs, hands stroking upwards. He reached Sam's cock, "I'm going to clean this myself," snaking out his tongue to lick the slit, then taking the length gently into his hand, stroking it with his fingers. Knowing Sam's eyes were upon him, Dean looked up, leering at him, licking his lips. He focused back on Sam's dick, taking the head to his lips, kissing the tip, slowly taking it into his mouth. Sam's dick finally hit the back of his throat and Dean slowly pulled back, his tongue caressing the length, licking the tip, suckling. Dean opened his mouth, swallowing deep, sucking a bit harder. 

Sam was losing it, trying to push deeper, then pull back, to fuck Dean's mouth. But Dean wouldn't allow it, pushing Sam's hips to the wall, pinning him there and keeping control. One hand eased around to Sam's ass, two fingers slowly entering, while his thumb moved over Sam's balls, his tongue laving Sam's dick. Up and down, fast then slow, kissing the tip, sucking on the head, covering the length again, tasting and teasing. Dean thrust his fingers upwards, hearing the loud moan, feeling Sam's cock twitch, letting Sam have some movement. 

Sam immediately began to fuck Dean's mouth, taking back some control. Bringing one hand down, he grabbed Dean's hair, moving him back and forth along the length. Dean's hands moved back to his hips, and Sam felt safe in letting his other hand down, knowing Dean could support him. He pushed Dean's mouth over his cock, holding him there, feeling Dean suck him. He pulled Dean's mouth up, then pushed back down, holding him there again. He felt Dean's tongue caressing him, moaning one last time. 

Dean moaned himself, the vibration sending Sam over the edge. Dean tasted the hot seed as it filled his mouth, swallowing what he could. He finally pulled away and Sam slid to the floor, facing him. Both men caught a breath, Sam speaking first. 

"It's your turn now," he whispered, hands on Dean's shoulders, pulling their mouths close. "My turn to clean you." He kissed Dean deeply, pushing him under the stream of water. Pulling him out, Sam kissed him again, picking up the cloth, then shook his head as an afterthought. He picked up the soap, lathering his hands, slowly washing Dean's neck, up and down his arms and across his chest. He pinched the nipples lightly, hearing Dean's soft moan, and continued down his body. As Dean had with him, Sam avoided washing one part, slowly washing his legs, and kissing him instead. He motioned Dean to stand and moved him under the water, rinsing him off. He turned Dean around, smiling at him, pushing him against the wall. "Your turn to hold on...but don't let go. I can't hold you up." 

"I won't let go." Dean gave him an extremely salacious look as he grabbed the bar. 

"Good," Sam whispered, before swallowing Dean's cock in one move, grazing his teeth along the shaft and pulling back, repeating the motions. His hands moved right to Dean's ass, giving the same pleasure he had received, easing a finger in, slowly sliding it in and out, adding another, while he kept Dean's cock deep within his throat. 

"Please...." The word came from Dean's throat before he could stop it. 

Sam glanced up, seeing Dean's eyes closed, Dean biting his lower lip, his face showing nothing but pure ecstasy. He moved back, taking Dean's cock firmly in his fist, jerking him off slowly. He licked the tip, and that was all it took.... 

Dean came all over Sam's face, and Sam took his cock deep again. He finally moved away and Dean let go of the bar, joining Sam on his knees. "I love it when you do that for me," Dean said softly, before pulling Sam into a long, drawn-out kiss, that had Sam panting by the time it was broken. "We have to get cleaned up again," Dean said, dragging them both under the water.

"I love you," Sam said, smiling at him. 

"Me too." Dean smiled back and turned the water off, kissing Sam one last time, before getting out. 

The two stood outside the shower, drying each other off, when Dean stopped, stroking Sam's face, and pulled him close. "When I thought you were dead...."

Sam placed two fingers to Dean's lips. "Shh, I know."

They went into the bedroom and got dressed, heading into the kitchen. 

"Gran!" Sam swept her into a bone-crushing hug.

"Sammy, it's so good to see you." She pushed him back a bit. "I think you grew since I last saw you."

"Aww," Sam flushed pink, sounding all of seven, "I didn't grow since October." 

She turned to Dean. "You're still the shortest," Anne teased. "But I love you anyway."

"Thanks Gran," Dean snorted, hugging her tight. "You have such a way with words. And why is your hair gray? They run out of Miss Clairol?"

"I think it looks good, Grandma," Sam nodded firmly.

"You're such a suck-up, Sam," Anne sighed. "It looks like shit and you know it." She turned to Dean. "My hairdresser died, I haven't found a new one yet and she took my color formula to the grave with her."

"Sam, get out your Ouija board and make contact so Gran doesn't look all of her hundred and twelve years." 

"I'd kick your ass, Dean, but I'm too burned out from the concert." Anne began to laugh. "I didn't know a mosh pit could be so much fun."

"A mosh pit?" Dean laughed. "That is so cool. Sammy won't go into one 'cause he's afraid of injury."

Sam began to sniff the air. The smell grew stronger and he recognized it - gingerbread cookies, his favorite. "Grandma?" He glanced at the counter. "Are those for me?"

"Who else would I bake 'em for, kid? Your Daddy and brother won't touch them."

"Mornin'," Bobby drawled as he joined them. "You must be Anne. I'm Bobby Singer."

"You never met Bobby before, Gran?" Sam asked. 

"Sammy," she smiled at him, "I've never met your father's...business associates."

"I love gingerbread men," Bobby snickered as he walked over and picked one up. "OWW!" He pulled his hand back. "What'd you hit me for?"

"Because they're for my Sammy, not you." 

"Can I please have one, Mom?" Bobby asked sweetly. 

"You call me Mom again and your life will be forfeit, you fucking Neanderthal." She gave him a glare that made him step back. "Just because you're screwing my son, doesn't mean I have to like you...or be nice to you."

"John said you were a bitch," Bobby laughed, "with a foul mouth, and I love it."

"Where's my son?" she asked, snarling at him.

"He's in bed."

"The fuck he is," she muttered. "Not at noon."

Bobby watched as she walked to the bedroom door, pounded on it, bellowed "JOHN!" and only stepped away when she heard the loud thump hit the floor. "My work is done." She headed outside. "My damn car's been making noise all the way back from the city."

John finally stumbled out, grinding his teeth. "I hate that woman."

Anne came back in with a frown. "I think the muffler is shot. Oh, good morning son. Sleep well?" 

"I was just sayin' how much I hate you, old woman." John sat down, grinning at her. "How are you, Mom?"

Anne regarded her son's face and rolled her eyes. "A hell of a lot better than you, it seems. Demon or bar brawl?"

"Psychotic killer," Bobby told her. "Did a number on me too."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You love my son?"

"Yeah," Bobby nodded, "I do. And I...."

"Young man, you don't need to say anymore." Anne gave him a small smile. "I hear you're from a family of hunters, going back quite a few generations."

"And how do you know so much about that?" Bobby was **very** curious. "I know John told you about Mary, and the basics of what we do, but I get the feeling you know more than you let on."

"I'm a witch."

"WHAT?!"

"Gotcha." She started to laugh. "I read, you dumbass. And I've read Johnny's journal."

"You don't wanna mess with her, Bobby," Sam laughed. 

"I guess I don't."

Anne's face softened. "I think you can have cookies," she put two on a plate for him, "seein' as you love him and all."

"Thanks...Mom."

"Don't push it." She poured them all coffee. "So, you boys staying here for a while?"

"I am, 'cause he needs some rest," John answered, nodding to Bobby.

"My leg's fine today and...." Sam's breath hitched. He wanted some time alone with Dean, but didn't know how to say it. 

"Gran...." Dean started, but paused.

"Dean, it's okay if you and Sammy want to go." Anne patted him on the cheek. "I was reading about some strange homicides in Watkinsville, Georgia, just south of Athens. Bodies torn apart by what appears to be a wild animal. I think you boys should check it out."

"Strange homicides?" Sam asked. 

"Could be a werewolf."

"You've been eating your mushrooms again, haven't you?" Dean laughed. "Where did you read that and what makes you think it's a werewolf?"

"Read it on the internet," she smirked, "and the murders have been happening for the past three months under a full moon. I figure that's right up your alley."

"We don't get to see you too often, Gran," Sam smiled shyly. 

"I know, but if there's something bad out there, and you can stop it, that's more important."

There was no disagreement, (you could never win an argument with Anne Winchester) and after eating the boys went to pack up. 

"They're good together, John," Anne told him. "Don't get in between them."

"I won't."

"I want those two to be happy, you know that, just like I want for you." 

"I am, Mom." John gave her a genuine smile. 

"Hurt my son," she glared at Bobby, "and I'll kill you, and I can assure you it will be extremely painful."

"I bet it will be," Bobby nodded quickly. "And I swear I'll never hurt him."

"Well, all right then. In that case you can have another cookie."

Dean and Sam came out with their bags, giving quick hugs to their Father and Bobby. They all knew they'd see each other very soon.

Dean hugged his Grandmother tightly and walked out. He'd never been good at saying good-bye to her and knew if he lingered, he'd burst into tears as when he was small.

Sam gave her a hug and wiped his eyes. As with Dean, leaving her had always been the hardest thing when he was younger. 

"Sammy, I swear, if you make me cry...."

"We'll see you soon, Gran, I swear. It won't be so long between visits next time." 

"Get out of here, kiddo, and go take care of the evil things."

Sam nodded to her and ran out before he let loose with a face full of tears. 

The moment Sam got into the car, Dean tossed him a pack of tissues, wiping his own tears away. "I know, Sammy. I'm gonna miss her too."

Sam took a deep breath. "Well, let's go. Watkinsville awaits."

"Cheer up. We'll stop along the way and send postcards to Cassie and Sarah."

"How about we tell 'em we got married?" Sam laughed softly.

"You're so evil, little brother." Dean leaned over and stole a kiss. "And I love it."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

** 12\. TIME PASSAGES **

Time seemed to go by in a blur, and with it had gone all the money Sam had received in his settlement.

First came the semi, which trashed the Impala, and nearly killed them all. 

The Yellow-Eyed Demon and a Reaper were both after a comatose Dean, lurking about, waiting for him to die. They got into a vicious battle over who would get his soul when he took his last breath. While they were fighting, (and tearing up the hospital) Dean woke up, spoiling their plans. For the Reaper couldn't take a living human and the Yellow-Eyed Demon wasn't about to go after all three Winchester's and Bobby yet. He needed to catch them with their guards down. So he left, intending to bide his time. He knew it would come soon.

A good chunk of the money went for the hospital bills. Like he had done with Bobby months before, Sam insisted that his father and brother have first class care, which didn't come cheap. The Impala had to be repaired. John had to buy a new truck and have it refitted as the previous one. There were specialty weapons and ammo that didn't come cheap either. 

There were hunters who were injured, who needed cash to survive, who had families, and the boys knew them all and came through first. 

Anne managed to get herself arrested for selling weed to a narc, and being it was her umpteenth arrest for pot possession, the judge wanted to sentence her to a **long** time in prison. A decent lawyer cost a shitload of money and she got off with a hefty fine and community service. 

John and Sam wanted her to just stop doing that sort of thing. Dean knew she wouldn't, and as long as she didn't go beyond grass, he didn't think it was a big deal. But he managed to get a promise from her that she wouldn't deal with people she didn't personally know anymore. 

Soon they were right back where they started, flat broke...and they didn't give a shit. Money had never been a priority in their lives anyway. 

Life went back to the way it was, cheap motels and hustling pool, shooting darts and playing poker.

And hunting for the Yellow-Eyed Demon.

They were going to find it before it found them.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Claudette Barnes escaped from the lunatic asylum, managing to steal a car from the hospital parking lot, vowing to track down the Winchester's, which she did. She located them in Lawrence, right in time for Christmas. Claudette watched them, planning her revenge, and made her move on the third night...while they were inside a cemetery. Not even thinking about that night months ago, and her encounter with a demon, she spotted them and charged head on, armed with a shotgun. 

"SAM!" John shouted.

"I SEE HER!" Sam screamed back, tackling her before she could get a shot off. 

The gun dropped from Claudette's hands, but she managed to punch Sam in the stomach and he bent over with a sharp **OOMPH**. "That's just the beginning." She followed up with a kick between his legs, which dropped him to his knees, and a kick across the face. She moved for another kick, but Sam dodged her and rolled, getting to his feet. 

"No matter what, I don't like to hit women." He avoided another punch. "But in your case," he made a fist, "I'll make an exception." He decked her and she went down, but shifted her leg out, knocking him on his ass. 

"You ruined my life!" She pounced on him, getting a punch in. "I'll see you DEAD!" 

Sam managed to knock her over, grabbing her arms and holding her down. It wasn't easy; she was fighting like a banshee. He glanced up and groaned. "Not now...." 

He dropped his guard and Claudette tossed him off of her, sprang to her feet, picked up her gun and was ready to shoot him when she heard the noise behind her. Turning, she came face to face with the reason the men were in the cemetery.

There were zombies all around her and she hadn't even noticed. Frozen in her tracks, she didn't do anything when Sam grabbed the gun and shot it in the head, then took aim at another. Claudette just sank to her knees, buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Four hours later the things were all burned and she fled to the nearest police station, turning herself in and screaming about _"Night of the Living Dead"_.

Claudette Barnes would never see the outside world again. 

**~~~~~~~~~~** ~

The boys were in Nashville, taking a little down time for a change. Sam accidentally won tickets to a Grand Ole Opry performance by Dolly Parton and was shocked that Dean had broken all land speed records to get there. He kept checking the internet to see if Metallica was opening for her.

After the show, Sam found out why. It seemed that some years before, when Sam was at Stanford, his father and brother had 'cleaned house' for the country singer and Dean wanted to introduce his brother to her. She had "oohed" and "ahhed" over Sam, telling him how much his "Daddy and older brother" had bragged about him going to a "fancy school" and being "smarter than Albert Einstein".

Sam had just blushed, said, "Aww shucks, I'm not that smart," and had turned the deepest shade of crimson when she kissed him. 

That had been the night before, and since they hadn't found anything of the supernatural to hunt, they were getting ready to head to Pittsburgh. Dean had closed his eyes, pointed at a map and made the decision before heading out to fill up the gas tank. 

But during some random research, Sam found out they had to change their plans. "I got a line on the demon," he said, as Dean entered the motel room. 

"How?" Dean asked. "And are you sure it's **the** demon and not **a** demon?" He was skeptical, and for good reason. They had thought they'd tracked that damn Yellow-Eyed Demon numerous times, but what they caught were 'everyday, run-of-the-mill' demons.

Sam read from his laptop. "Denise Mayfield, born May second, nineteen eighty-three, in Saginaw, Michigan." He swallowed hard. "Mother died six months later in a fire, father died from a heart attack, natural causes it appears, last year."

"That's the same day you were born, Sammy. You think she...she's like Max?" Dean was worried. Max had gone off the deep end, killing his abusive father before killing himself. 

Sam gave him a small smile. "No, I think she's more Andy. Married two years, still lives in Saginaw, works as a mechanic, living the _Ozzie and Harriet lifestyle_ with her husband and two dogs."

"So she's not evil, not yet anyway."

"She has a daughter, Dean."

"Aww shit." Dean sat down on the bed beside his brother. "Don't tell me. The kid is six months old, right?"

"In three days time, she will be."

"I'll call Dad."

"I'll call Cannoli Kitchen."

"Why?"

"Because I'm hungry and they deliver."

"Get me...."

"I know, Dean. Chicken parmigiana, a side of spaghetti and a slice of cheesecake."

"Two slices, Sammy."

"You're gaining weight, Dean."

"I'll burn it off, Sam."

"How? Sitting on your ass in here or sitting on your ass in the car?"

"Sammy, baby," Dean grinned, "sex burns off plenty."

"Yeah," Sam chuckled, "how much?"

Dean grabbed a piece of paper and did some quick calculations. "Roughly twenty minutes of foreplay and three hours of hot and sweaty sex, that'll burn off my dinner." He leaned over and nearly sucked Sam's tonsils out. "So let me call Dad, you order dinner, and we can burn off some of those calories before food comes."

"Dean...."

"Chill, Sam. We're about nine hours from Saginaw."

Sam smirked and pulled up Mapquest on the laptop, than frowned. "How do you do that?"

"I never had a problem with math. Or maps." He picked up his phone to call John, sticking his tongue out at Sam. 

"I can think of better things for you to do with that tongue." 

"I'm sure you can, you filthy pervert."

_"Dean, don't call your brother names."_

"Oh, uh, hi, Dad. I didn't realize you'd picked up the phone."

_"Of course you didn't. Now what do you want?"_

"Sam and I are fine, Dad. Thanks for asking."

_"Dean...."_

"First, we saw Dolly Parton and she sends her regards."

_"You **know** Dolly Parton?!"_ Bobby's voice screamed. _"I love her!"_

"As much as Britney Spears?" Dean teased, and began to sing, off-key and flat of course. " _Stronger than yesterday, now it’s nothing but my way, my loneliness ain’t killing me no more, I am stronger...._ "

"CHRISTO, CHRISTO!" Sam laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes.

_"Don't sing, Dean,"_ John warned, " _or I'm dragging you in for an exorcism. And where did you learn that shit anyway?"_

"I memorized it," Dean told him. "Waiting for the perfect moment to use it."

_"And now you have Bobby singing it,"_ John groaned. " _Did you need something, Dean?"_

"We found it, at least we think we did." Dean paused. "Where are you?"

_"By it, you mean... **it**? We've been here before Dean. How can you be sure....?"_

Dean quickly explained about Saginaw. "The demon will come for that baby."

_"We're in Florida,"_ John said, _"and we can meet up with you in Saginaw the day after tomorrow."_

"What are you doing in Florida?"

" _ **Somebody** wanted to see Shamu for his birthday, and he pouted and refused to give me head unless I...."_

"All right, Dad, I get it! Scar my psyche some more, why don't you? As if I don't have enough prob...." Dean's voice trailed off as he glanced over at Sam, who had finally stopped laughing...and stripped, laying on the bed, legs spread, jerking himself slow with his right hand, while his left was finger-fucking himself. 

_"Dean?"_

Dean didn't hear his father; he was staring at Sam, mouth wide open. 

_"DEAN!"_

"I gotta go, Dad. Uh, Sammy needs some help. See you, uh...Friday."

_"Dean, the day after tomorrow is Sunday."_

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Dad. Bye." Dean closed the phone and it dropped from his hand. He walked over to the bed and lay down beside Sam, taking both of Sam's hands in his own. "Mine."

"I could have told you that," Sam smiled. 

"I want a kiss," Dean whispered, pulling Sam atop his body. His lips took Sam's, and he slowly deepened the kiss, enjoying the feeling. He broke the kiss, licking his lips. "I could do this all day...and night." He plundered Sam's mouth again, his tongue making love to Sam's, sucking on it, while his hands stroked Sam's back, down to his ass. He kneaded Sam's cheeks, and Sam began to thrash in his arms. Dean just deepened the kiss again, his fingernail flicking against Sam's hole. Finally allowing Sam some air, Dean looked into his eyes, then slid a finger inside. Sam pushed back, and Dean kissed him again, another finger joining the first. Dean thrust his tongue deep as his fingers shoved hard, and Sam moaned into his mouth. Their mouths parted again. "Liked that, did you?" 

"Uh-huh." Sam gave him a loopy grin. "More?" 

"Oh yeah...lots more...." Dean rolled them, so he was laying on top. His lips kissed their way down Sam's body. Laving the nipples softly, he teased them, biting down when Sam arched. Kisses down his abdomen, hearing Sam's sharp intakes of breath, a giggle when he teased the navel. He knelt between Sam's legs, pulling them over his shoulders. "Ready to be fucked?" Sam nodded and Dean gave him a sly smile, bringing Sam's cheeks to his mouth, licking the crack, biting the cheeks, his tongue everywhere. He eventually stopped, when, once again, he nearly lost his hold on the writhing man in his arms. "Take it easy," Dean whispered. "No rush, I'm not going anywhere." Sam seemed to calm, laying still. He lay Sam's body down, covering it with his own. "I so love kissing you." He moved down Sam's body again, stopping at his dick. He looked up, and smiled, taking Sam slowly down his throat, while he fondled his balls. He swallowed the entire length and moved his hand a little further back, teasing Sam's ass again. It was one brief moment before Sam was screaming his orgasm, pushing his dick deeper. Dean drank, not stopping until Sam had stopped moving and lay under him, a pile of mush. "I think...that burned off...one piece of cheesecake."

"Oh, Dean, you say the most romantic things," Sam grinned as he caught his breath. "Now go brush your teeth."

"And you say I'm romantic?" But Dean did as he was told, coming out with a cloth so they could clean up. "Dinner will be here shortly."

"But it's not here _yet_." Sam smirked. "Now, get on the bed, on your back, so I can fuck you."

Dean obeyed. He so loved it when Sam took charge, although he'd never admit it out loud.

"Hands above your head." Dean complied. "Spread your legs." Sam knelt between them. "I'm going to fuck you Dean...make you scream." Sam's voice was soft and even-toned, and he caressed Dean's cheek with a finger, caressing it over his lips. His hand moved to Dean's hair. He stroked it, pulling Dean into a deep kiss, sucking hard on Dean's tongue. "And now, a little painful pleasure." Sam's teeth moved to Dean's neck, where he bit and sucked at one spot, leaving a nice purple bruise, marking Dean, something he got perverse pleasure from. He sat up and pulled at Dean's nipples, watching them harden, until Dean was moaning, _"More...need more...."_ and arching up against his brother. Or at least trying to. Sam kept pushing him back down, finally moving his hands to Dean's hips, holding him still. "Right now, you are mine." Dean just stared at him. "Something you wanted to say?" 

"I want you to fuck me...." 

"I knew that, Dean," Sam said. "The question is, how do you want to be fucked? On your hands and knees, on your back? Do you want me to shove my cock up your ass, or tongue fuck you until you beg for it." 

"Anything Sam...please...do **something**...." Dean was sweating, even though the room was cool. 

"Tell me what you want Dean...tell me and I'll do it." Sam's voice had softened and he continued to hold Dean down. "It's sheer torture...and you love every minute of it." He shifted, moving his legs over Dean's, straddling his hips, their cocks coming into contact with each other. Sam moved one hand to Dean's chest, stroking a nipple softly, then moved to the other, feeling them get hard at his touch. As Dean watched, Sam's other hand teased both their cock heads, gathering the first drops of precome on his fingertips. The fingers moved to Dean's mouth and Sam slowly spread it over Dean's lips. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as Dean's tongue started licking his fingers, then began to suck on them. 

His other hand continued to pleasure Dean's nipples, while his cock touched Dean's, rubbing against it, feeling it swell. "Do you know how beautiful you are, babe?" Sam licked Dean's lips. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?" His lips on Dean's shoulder. "You're mine." Those lips now attached themselves to a nipple, sucking hard, than gently laving. "Does it feel good?" The other nipple was now getting attention and Dean could only moan. "I'll take that as a yes." Sam kissed further down, then sat up, spreading Dean's legs again, kneeling between them. His hands rested on Dean's thighs as he kissed his way upward, his hands caressing ahead of his lips. 

By the time Sam reached his cock, Dean was writhing with need. Sam stroked the length with his fingers, light caresses, both his hands massaging it. He took the head into his mouth, suckling on it, teasing the slit with his tongue, while his hands continued to give pleasure. Dean was teetering on the edge and Sam knew it. He sat up, wrapping one hand over Dean's cock, stroking a bit harder. "I want to spread your come over my cock..." the strokes came a bit faster, his free hand kneading Dean's balls, "...and ram it up your sweet, tight ass." Sam gripped him tighter. "Now Dean...come for me...." 

Dean's body almost jumped off the bed, his come erupting all over Sam's hand. His brother stroked him, watching the sweet seed cover his hand. He sighed as he looked up into Dean's face, so beautiful, so absolutely perfect. Without thinking, he moved the hand to his own cock, anointing it with Dean's come, while his other hand continued stroking his lover. The feeling of Dean's warm come on his own wanting cock, coupled with the way he was stroking himself, and stroking Dean, was driving Sam himself over the edge. He bit his lip to stave off his orgasm, and hoped he would last long enough to pleasure his lover. He moved up Dean's body, his lips hard upon Dean's, his tongue making love to Dean's mouth. Dean moaned into his mouth and Sam felt the tightening in his balls, and abruptly broke the kiss. He knelt between Dean's legs again, pushing the knees up, a thumb teasing the tightness. 

"You want more?" 

A barely audible, "Yes...more...." 

Dean's legs were pulled over Sam's shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you into oblivion." Sam slowly kneaded Dean's ass, spreading the cheeks. "But first...." 

Dean gasped as he felt the lips on his ass. The hot breath on his cheek, followed by the tongue laving his still tight hole. "Oh God...." That strong tongue entering him, fucking him...."Sam!" Dean was having a hard time keeping his hands above his head and his brother noticed, but ignored it for now. The tongue licked deeper, teeth leaving bite marks, and Dean was twisting in Sam's arms. 

Sam nearly lost his hold and pulled away, licking his lips, sliding Dean legs from his shoulders. "Turn over." 

Dean smiled at his lover, and what he got back was the most salacious look he had ever seen. He turned, on his hands and knees, his ass pushed up and back, wanting his brother's cock...Sam didn't disappoint him. His cock slid in, filling Dean in one move, and Dean screamed. Sam stroked his back with one hand, while his other held Dean still. 

Dean then let loose with some of the dirtiest phrases he knew, in Latin, Aramaic and French. Sam felt the blush creeping across his cheeks. His thrusts came faster, as Dean continued his lustful tirade...this time in plain English. 

"Fuck me harder..." He met each of Sam's movements with one of his own. "Give me that big cock..." Dean arched his entire body against his lover. "Take what's **yours**!" 

Sam's hands gripped Dean's hips, holding him steady, as his cock pounded harder. There was nothing else, only the heat of Dean's ass surrounding his cock. He drove his cock deeper then he thought possible, hitting the prostate again and again. As Dean's screams got louder, Sam switched tacks, moving Dean up and down his cock. Now he remained still, while he brought Dean to new heights of pleasure. He saw Dean's hand move to his cock, and batted it away. "NO! You come from me alone...fucking you...taking what's mine...." He moved his hands to Dean's cheeks, spreading him even wider. "This...ass...is... **mine**!" His thrusts were more animalistic, harder and faster, rougher then Dean had ever felt. Sam's orgasm was building, but he **had** to draw this out just a little more...had to pleasure Dean for just one more moment.... 

"SAM!" Dean's scream, his orgasm erupting, covering his abdomen and the sheet. 

Only now did Sam allow himself the release he needed, filling Dean with wave after wave of hot semen, moaning "Dean" over and over. He eventually had to move, and turned Dean onto his back, kissing him everywhere. "So beautiful...all mine...." 

"I think I'm dead," Dean joked, still panting.

There was a knock on the door. 

"You pay for food, I'm going to shower." Sam went into the bathroom and when he came out the food was on the desk and Dean was fast asleep. Laughing to himself, Sam took out his sub and turned on the television. Once he was sure Dean was asleep, he felt safe to put on the channel he wanted...an all night _Rugrats_ marathon. If Dean ever found out how much he enjoyed the show, he'd never live it down.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Denise and Edward Mayfield listened to the story the men told, but Edward didn't believe it. He picked up the phone to call the police, but Denise stopped him. 

"They're telling the truth, Ed."

"How do you know that?" her husband asked. 

"I just do. Please trust me?"

Ed reluctantly put down the phone. "So, what do we do? If what you've told us **is** the truth, I'm not letting the devil take my daughter."

Bobby took him by the arm. "You need to leave, or you're dead first, I can assure you."

He pulled his arm away. "Now you look here, if you think I'm going to leave my wife and child...."

"Shut up, Ed!" his wife told him sharply. "You do what they say!"

Edward was taken aback; his wife had never raised her voice before. "Okay, but I won't be far."

"I'll go with him," Bobby said, but pulled John into the other room before he left. 

"Bobby...."

"This is your fight, John, you and the boys. It always has been. If I were to get in the way somehow, you and I could never be the same and you know it." Bobby shook his head as John opened his mouth. "Don't say anything. All I want you to do is not get your sorry ass killed."

John was a smart man, and knew very well that words were no good at the moment. He framed Bobby's face in his palms and drew him into a kiss, not too chaste, not too deep. He pulled away and just nodded, the two returning to the others. 

Bobby took Edward outside, asking him where the nearest bar was, as they both needed more than a few drinks. 

"What do I do?" Denise asked them. 

"You just do whatever it is...you do," Sam smiled. 

"And you?"

"We wait," Dean told her.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Sam was having a good time with little Valerie. He was currently feeding her some pureed meat and grinning as she took each spoonful from him. 

"I saw those awards," he told Denise. "You're a crack shot."

"Nothing wrong with knowing how to handle a gun," she told him, watching her daughter eat. "You have children?" 

"No," he told her, "I, uh...no women in my life."

"Got a boyfriend?"

"That's none of your business!" Sam snapped, then caught himself. "Look, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to...."

She gave him a grin. "It's okay, Sam. If I had a relationship with my brother, I wouldn't tell people either."

"How did you know?"

"When he went to do a...perimeter search...with your father, the way you looked at him. It's a look that only lover's share."

Sam allowed himself a laugh. "And you still let me play with your daughter? Most people would be running for the hills at the notion of incest...and some even over homosexuality."

"She likes you, and even at six months, she doesn't like many people."

"I like her too." Sam grimaced as little Valerie spit some food all over him. 

"I remember **that** ," Dean snickered as he and John came back inside. "I wore more food than you ate."

"It's time for bed," Denise said, taking her daughter out of the high chair. She looked at the men. "Are you afraid?"

"Yes," Sam admitted without hesitation. 

"Good," she nodded. "From what you told me, if you weren't, I would be even more frightened than I already am." Denise took Valerie upstairs. 

"More coffee," Dean said, pouring them all another round, glancing at the clock. 

"It'll be after midnight, if he shows," John said with conviction. "Let's get out of sight."

"You think he'll know that we're here?" Sam needed to know. He was more scared than he let on. 

"I hope not," John answered, the three disappearing to different parts of the house.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

It was twelve-fifteen when they heard the shriek from upstairs. 

All three men came out of hiding and ran to the baby's room, seeing an all too familiar sight. 

Denise was halfway up the wall, the demon standing beside the crib, eyes bright yellow, a maniacal grin on his face. "Scream all you want, bitch. Nobody is going to save you." He turned and saw the Winchester's. " **Nobody**."

John lifted the Colt but it was snatched from his hand, and he was thrown into the wall. The Colt than flew from the room, downstairs. 

Sam went after it, looking everywhere, but he couldn't find it. He knew very well that without it they were screwed. 

Upstairs, the Yellow-Eyed Demon now had Denise pinned to the ceiling, but Dean barreled into him and she fell. 

**Now** the demon was pissed. He quickly grabbed Dean by the neck, lifting him off the floor. "I should have killed you twenty-five years ago; you should have been first."

Dean was throwing punches that were connecting, but they meant nothing. The demon didn't even feel them.

John attempted to tackle the demon, which was a futile move, but he wasn't going to stand there while it strangled Dean. He was tossed off like a rag doll, and found himself beside Dean. 

The demon was now holding both of them up, each of his hands around their necks, holding them midair. "It's going to be so easy now. You'll both be dead, burning, damned to Purgatory, and Sammy...Sammy won't stand a chance. He'll accept me, accept who and what he is."

"I don't think so." Sam stood in the doorway, holding the Colt. "You'll never have me, and you're not going to get that baby." 

"Sammy," the demon smirked, "did I ever tell you how Mommy begged for your life before she died?"

Sam swallowed hard, but his aim didn't waiver. 

"Mommy pleaded with me to spare you, spare your brother, your Daddy...hell," he laughed, "she begged for her own life." He stared into Sam's eyes, the yellow almost a glow. "Now put the gun down, come with me and I let Daddy and Dean live."

"No you won't," Sam stated with certainty. "You might let them go now, but you'll go after them someday." 

"Gonna shoot me, Sammy? You'll miss and the last bullet will kill one of them."

He was right, and Sam knew it. The position they were in, he didn't have a clear shot. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I hope those awards were worth something," and tossed the gun to Denise. 

"They are," she said, catching the Colt and firing without hesitation. 

The Yellow-Eyed Demon turned, the bullet hitting him in the head. "No...NO!" He dropped John and Dean, bursting into flames himself, leaving a pile of ashes behind. 

Denise dropped the gun and ran to her daughter, taking her out of the crib, holding her tight. 

John and Dean were catching their breaths. 

"Sam...." John gasped out, catching a breath. 

"She's got a zillion awards for marksmanship," Sam quickly explained, fully prepared for the dressing down he was sure to receive from his Father. "I took a chance, I had to. The thought of that thing existing one more day...."

"Sammy," John gave him a genuine smile, "I was going to say, you did the right thing."

It took a moment for the words to sink into Sam's head. "Thanks, Dad." 

Dean got to his feet, stumbled over to Sam, took Sam into his arms, dipped him and gave him a kiss. "I love you, Sammy."

"Thank you," Denise said through her tears. 

"Hey," John said softly, "let me take her for now. You need a moment or five."

Denise hesitated for a moment, but realized he was right and handed her daughter to John. "You guys up for a drink?"

Dean and Sam looked at each other, than to her. "Oh yeah," they both answered. 

John took a seat, smiling at them. "For a change, I'll save my drinking for later." He cradled Valerie in his arms. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

The boys and Valerie went downstairs, and Sam called Bobby to tell him he and Edward could come back. 

Two hours later, the hunters were on their way back to their motel. 

They would always have a home with the Mayfield's, and all silently swore to keep track of Valerie, make sure she would **always** be safe.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Bobby was chewing John out over his hand-to-hand attempt at fighting the Yellow-Eyed Demon, but John just dragged him into their room and clearly told him to, "Shut up and bring on the fucking Vicodin."

Dean and Sam went to their room, sat next to each other and smiled. 

"So, Sammy, you ready to head back to Stanford now?"

"I dunno, Dean," Sam laughed a bit. "We still have a vampire to catch."

"So we stake Kate and her bloodsuckers and **then** you go back to college?"

"Well, there was that Wendigo we **didn't** dispose of in Maine." Sam crawled into Dean's lap, facing him. "I hate leaving a job undone." He kissed Dean on the right cheek. "I like being efficient." A kiss to the left and he rested his head on Dean's shoulder. "I don't want to leave the hunt. It's too important." 

Dean slid his arms around Sam's lower back, holding him close, hands caressing a path up and down. "I know what you said, Sammy, after Michael Ewing...but you'll make a great lawyer, or...or something."

Sam pulled back so he could look into Dean's eyes. "There are so many things out there, Dean, dark things that only we can take care of." He framed Dean's face in his palms. "That family, Dean, they're alive because of us. That little girl...."

Dean lay Sam's head upon his shoulder again, stroking his hair. "I know, baby. She's gonna get a chance to grow up now, with a Mom **and** a Dad."

Sam tilted his head up. "Hunting things, getting rid of evil." He smirked. "Family business, remember?" 

"Are you doing this for me, Sammy, or for you?"

"Christ, Dean, if I wanted to go back to college, we'd be on our way to Palo Alto already." Sam sat up and took Dean's mouth in a slow kiss. 

It would have been chaste, if not for the fact that Dean slid his hand in Sam's hair, slipped his tongue between Sam's lips, and ravished his mouth. When they came up for air, Dean murmured, "Should we check on Dad?"

A loud moan of, "HOT DAMN BOBBY, YOUR MOUTH IS FUCKING SINFUL!" floated through the wall, clearly heard by the boys.

"I think he's okay," Sam grinned and leaned in for another kiss. "How about we clean up and hit the bed?" He forced himself to his feet and pulled Dean up. 

"Sammy, baby," Dean kissed him, "you smell."

"Shower first, then we make love and I'm gonna ride you until **you** beg for mercy."

"A man with a plan. That's why I love you, Sam. You're very smart."

"I thought it was because I gave good head."

"That too." Dean grinned and slapped him on the ass, following Sam into the bathroom. 

They were going to be okay now. Yes, there were still evil things to be destroyed, but the most malevolent was now gone. And maybe, just maybe, they could learn to actually _enjoy_ their lives...just a little bit.

"Yeah," Dean murmured to himself.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Nothing, Sammy...absolutely nothing. Now get into that shower so I can give you the most magnificent blow-job you've ever received."

And for a change, Sam Winchester didn't think...and that felt really good, oh yes it did.

**FIN**


End file.
